


Heirs of the Old Religion: Goblet of Fire

by SpideytheKid (BlkRse)



Series: Heirs of the Old Religion [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-23 23:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6134308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlkRse/pseuds/SpideytheKid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Morgana would like to enjoy the TriWizard Tournament like everyone else, but impending doom seems to keep interrupting. Fourth in the Heirs of the Old Religion series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Merlin stumbled a bit as his foot sank into a hole. He was able to keep himself from falling but was upset that he'd been slowed down. Running for his life wasn't what he planned on doing this early Saturday morning.

Perhaps 'running for his life' was an exaggeration, but that was certainly how he felt. When he'd asked his father to teach him how to fight, his expectation resembled Dueling Club. Balinor insisted that fighting the enemy was much more than just wand waving.

"It's just as much physical as it is magical," Balinor had said. It was in that moment that Merlin realized he'd made a mistake in asking his father for help. For the past few weeks, they worked on stamina and coordination. As Merlin had a habit of being clumsy, this proved to be quite the task. Fortunately, there had been improvement and Merlin had managed not to trip and fall…as often.

When Balinor woke Merlin up early in the morning, he was not prepared to run through the unfamiliar forests of Romania's Dragon Sanctuary. There were plenty of holes to fall into and logs to trip over. Only one of the three wizards that had been sent after him had caught up so far. Merlin didn't know the boy's name, but still felt guilty for hitting him with a Leg-Locking Curse. The boy went down with an 'umph' and hadn't been seen since.

That was a while ago and Merlin was getting tired. He slowed his run to a brisk walk, taking in his surroundings. A twig snapped behind him, and Merlin immediately drew his wand. The wizard who had drawn his attention looked down at the twig in irritation but grinned at Merlin.

"Should have kept running," he said, pulling back the hood of his jacket to reveal flaming red hair. "I don't think we would have been able to keep up with you for much longer."

"Speak for yourself, Charlie," the other wizard said. "I was just catching my stride."

Merlin watched as the two circled him, trading barbs as they moved.

"Seriously Gwaine? Stride?" Charlie laughed. "He had you beat the moment he took off."

Merlin's eyes kept shifting to Gwaine.

"It's all about pacing yourself," Gwaine replied as he grinned at Merlin. "Tired little Ambrose?"

Merlin didn't answer and tightly gripped his wand in his hand. _He's going to strike first,_ he thought to himself. Gwaine's body language screamed his attack and Merlin was ready.

" _Stupify!_ "

" _Protego!_ " Merlin spun and pointed his wand at Charlie and shouted, " _Evante statum!"_ Charlie flew backwards several feet.

Gwaine threw a yellow curse in Merlin's direction, but it was dodged.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " Merlin shouted.

Gwaine's wand flew from his hand and for a moment, Merlin thought he'd bested the older wizard. He was not expecting Gwaine to charge at him. Merlin dove out of the way and watched Gwaine reclaim his wand.

"Nice one little Ambrose!" Gwaine seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Fumos," Merlin muttered, creating a smokescreen. It didn't last long, as Charlie had created a whirlwind. Merlin scrambled to his feet but was immediately knocked back down, the spell coming from Gwaine's direction.

"Did you see him disarm me?" Gwaine asked.

Charlie nodded. "He's pretty quick for a fourth year."

"Of course he is." A man in black hooded robes stepped into the clearing. Everyone lowered their wands as he approached Merlin. He pulled the hood off his head to reveal a jagged yellow smile. "He's an Ambrose."

* * *

The walk back to the House of Ambrosius didn't take very long. They ran into Merlin's third attacker, Brutus, who couldn't find his wand. Charlie offered to stay behind to help him find it as Merlin, Gwaine and the man in black robes continued on their way through the forest.

They approached the house to find Balinor and Hunith sitting on the porch. A grin crossed Balinor's face as he stood to his feet to greet them.

"Your son doesn't recognize me," the man said in greeting. "Understandably, I was much younger back then, and so was he."

"And far more handsome," Balinor added with a laugh. "The ministry hasn't been kind to you, old man." He pulled the man into a friendly hug, which the man returned.

"Stress," he admitted, running his hand through his graying hair. "Who knew looking after dragons would be easier than hunting dark wizards."

"I did," Hunith said, looking quite pleased with herself as she descended the stairs. "I'm not going to say 'I told you so' but…well…"

The man laughed and pulled Hunith into a hug. "Hunith, you're still as beautiful as the last time I saw you. Are you still happy with this one?" he asked, gesturing to Balinor. "If not, you and I could always-"

Hunith promptly slapped his arm. "Don't flirt with me in front of my son."

"Yes, your son." The man looked at Merlin thoroughly. "I can't remember the last time I saw you. How old are you now? Thirteen? Fourteen?"

"Fourteen, sir," Merlin answered politely.

"Goddess," he whispered. "Has it been that long?"

Balinor clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. "Son, this is Xander Aredian. He's one of my oldest friends and he used to be a respectable Dragon Keeper until the ministry got their hands on him."

"There was a need for them during the last war," Aredian defended.

"I'm sure there was," Balinor said sarcastically. "So what's brought you this way? Checking up on me for the Ministry?"

Aredian cleared his throat and took a professional tone. "As you well know, Balinor, under aged magic is-"

"Stupid."

"Against the law," Aredian finished. "Rufus knows we're friendly, so yes, I'm checking up on you for the Ministry." He reached inside his robes and produced an envelope. "I was also asked to bring you this. Courtesy of Bagman."

"Ah," Balinor took the envelope. "That is the most elusive man I have ever met. Why couldn't he bring this to me himself?"

"To put it quite bluntly, old friend, most witches and wizards are afraid of you," Aredian answered easily. "Imagine: a crazed man living in the forests of Romania with an army of dragons at his command. Tell me that doesn't sound intimidating."

Balinor frowned. "I'm not crazy."

"That's debatable," Hunith quipped. Merlin bit back a smile.

Balinor scowled at Hunith and turned to Gwaine. "How'd he do?"

"Took down Brutus with no problem," Gwaine reported. "Knocked Charlie off his feet and took my wand. We were, uh…interrupted…before anything else happened."

"Yes, it was all very impressive," Aredian said. "But what's this all about?"

"Voldemort's return," Balinor answered. "My son will be prepared for the worst."

"You expect him to fight?"

Balinor looked at Merlin, who stood a bit straighter. "That's his decision to make, but he will be prepared either way. Let's see a proper duel, son. You and Gwaine."

Aredian sighed as the two wizards took their dueling stances. "There's no way to dissuade you from doing this, is there?"

Balinor smiled. "Nope."

"I see." Aredian sat on the porch steps next to Hunith. "As a ministry official, I should at least stay and supervise."

"Is that a fancy way of inviting yourself to dinner?" Hunith asked.

Aredian smiled as Balinor began to count the boys down. "On the count of three, boys. One…"

"Watch your footing," Gwaine advised.

Merlin frowned. "What?"

"Two…"

"Watch your footing, and don't hold back." Gwaine smiled mischievously. "Because I won't."

"…three."

* * *

Merlin's hair was still wet from washing up as he plopped down in his seat at the kitchen table. "Everything hurts," he announced.

Both Balinor and Aredian laughed at him.

"Well, sweetheart," Hunith said sweetly, patting his back, "duck next time."

"Sound advice," Aredian chuckled.

Merlin glared at him, and rested his head on the table.

"I'm still trying to find out how they talked you into this old friend," Aredian said to Balinor. "You've never cooperated with the ministry before."

Merlin frowned in confusion. Clearly he missed the main part of their conversation. He looked to his mother for an explanation, but she shook her head at him.

"Bagman didn't tell you what you were giving me?" Balinor asked.

Aredian shook his head, causing Balinor to smirk. He took the envelope from his pocket and handed it to Merlin. "Open it."

Frowning slightly, Merlin took the envelope and opened it slowly. The gold and curly lettering glittered on the paper as Merlin read, "Admit one…422nd Quidditch World Cup…" Merlin's mouth fell open as he tried to process what he'd just read. "But…but you said I couldn't go."

Balinor shook his head. "I said you couldn't stay the summer with your friend, not that you couldn't go to the match."

Merlin read the ticket over and over again, his grin growing wider as he did.

"There should be three tickets in there," Balinor added. "And mum said she doesn't want to go."

Merlin thought about it for a moment. Morgana and Mordred were already going and Anthony was out of the country until school started again. "Can I invite Neville?"

Balinor nodded. "You'd better write him now. The match is in a few days."

Without any more prompting, Merlin got up from the table and went to his room. Quickly, he scribbled an invitation to Neville and commissioned his father's owl to deliver it. "Stick around until he replies," Merlin instructed. The owl hooted and took flight out the open window as Merlin watched on, excited about the rest of his summer.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning sun was painting the sky purple and pink as Morgana began to wake up. The sleeping potion Aggravaine made had worn off, and Morgana knew as soon as she became aware of her surroundings that she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Sighing, she threw the covers off and sat up.

“Milly,” she said softly. The house elf appeared with a ‘pop’.

“Yes miss?”

“Breakfast please.”

Milly bowed unnecessarily. “Yes miss.” She disappeared the same way she appeared and Morgana got out of the bed and slipped on her dressing gown.

She began heading towards the kitchen but before she could descend the stairs, she felt something pull at her magic. She froze and tried to listen past the silence of the early morning. Stepping away from the stairs, Morgana wandered down the hall towards the guest rooms. Her pace quickened, knowing exactly where the pull was coming from.

Morgana stopped in front of the bedroom door and waited. For a moment she thought she had been imagining things, but a whimper coming from inside made her open the door. Mordred was tossing and turning in his sleep, whimpering and mumbling.

“Mordred,” she said softly, trying to wake him. He frowned in his sleep and Morgana wondered if that’s what she looked like when she had nightmares. “Mordred,” she repeated, placing a hand on his arm.

Mordred jolted awake with his arms flailing so wildly that Morgana had to use her magic to restrain him. Eventually he calmed down as recognition crossed his face.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice raw and shaky.

“I should be asking you that,” Morgana answered calmly.

Mordred rubbed his face. “Just a bad dream…” He eyeballed her. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

He chuckled. “You know what I mean.”

Morgana shrugged. “I felt your magic.”

“Oh…I didn’t wake you did I?” He sighed in relief when she shook her head. “What time is it?”

“Sun’s coming up,” she said, standing from his bedside. “Milly is making breakfast.”

Mordred nodded. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

* * *

 

This was not the first time Morgana and Mordred watched the sun come up. The first night of Mordred’s stay, they stayed awake long after the sun had risen. Exploding Snap kept them up for hours, awakening the competitiveness in the both of them. Despite the sleep deprivation, Mordred had been very animated at breakfast. He even managed to make Aggravaine laugh; an easy feat now that the older man knew for a fact that Mordred and Morgana’s relationship was strictly platonic.

This morning, however, was a complete contrast to the way Mordred was behaving before. He quietly sat at the table and pushed his food around his plate.

Tired of him moping, Morgana cleared her throat. “You’re going to hurt Milly’s feelings if you don’t eat.”

Having already expressed his fondness for the house-elf, Mordred immediately speared some sausage and nibbled at it. Morgana bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at him.

“You two are up awfully early,” Aggravaine greeted. “Or have you even been to bed?”

“Sleeping potion wore off,” Morgana explained. “I came down for breakfast and Mordred joined me right after.”

“Mm hm,” he hummed suspiciously. “What are your plans for today?”

“Trouble,” Mordred immediately answered.

Aggravaine sighed. “Well if you both could keep your ‘trouble’ away from the library until later this afternoon, I would appreciate it.”

To honor her guardian’s request, Morgana and Mordred stayed in her room. She read through the Daily Prophet and a particularly amusing letter from Daphne, while Mordred flipped through a few of his new textbooks.

“’Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century was Completely Pointless-discuss’…is Binns serious?”

“I told you not to wait until the last minute to do your work.”

“Ugh,” Mordred groaned. “When can we stop taking history?”

Morgana grinned. “Sixth year.”

Mordred flipped his book shut and put it aside. “Can’t wait.”

“Well…” Morgana started thoughtfully, “You have to take your O.W.L.s first.”

Mordred made a face. “What?”

“Ordinary Wizarding Levels. It’s supposed to assess us on everything we’ve learned.”

Groaning again, Mordred sprawled out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “But why history?”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “You sound like Merlin.”

“Oh!” She must have triggered something in his memory, because Mordred quickly got to his feet and ran down the hall. He returned out of breath but with a letter in his hands. “He wrote me and I forgot all about it,” Mordred said, offering the letter to Morgana.

She took it and glared at her friend once she realized the letter was still sealed. “You didn’t even read it.”

“Well then read it.”

Sighing, Morgana opened the letter and began to read it.

_‘Mordred,_

_I still don’t know what we’re doing in Romania. I know it has something to do with the dragons and the Ministry, but mum and dad won’t tell me exactly what. Whatever it is, it got dad a few tickets to the World Cup! Maybe we’ll run into each other at the match. Dad’s also got a few Dragon keepers training me, so I should have a few things to show you when we get back to school. Give Morgana my best._

_-Merlin_

_P.S. I’m not doing your potion’s homework for you. Morgana would kill us both. I’m sure she’d help if you’d just ask her.’_

Morgana looked up from the letter to find Mordred smiling innocently at her. She snorted in laughter and refolded the letter. “Wonder what the Ministry’s up to.”

Mordred shrugged. “Dunno, but it got him some tickets.”

“Hm.” Perhaps Aggravaine knew what was going on. _Maybe I’ll ask later._ “So what’s this about your potions homework?” Mordred smiled again, but Morgana wasn’t having any of it. “Let’s do it so it’s done.”

Mordred frowned but took out a fresh roll of parchment anyway.

* * *

 

Morgana took a break from her half-finished Transfiguration homework to stretch. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was a few minutes before midnight. Yawning, Morgana stood, intent on finishing her work but in need of a break.

Mordred had stretched out across the foot of her bed and fallen asleep. Careful not to wake him, Morgana tiptoed out of her room and down the stairs for some tea.

Before she reached her destination, Morgana heard voices in the library. One belonged to Aggravaine, the other, she did not recognize.

“You’re sure these documents are correct?” Aggravaine asked.

“Of course they are,” said the second voice, sounding insulted. “Feel free to verify them against your own records.”

“Forgive me, Mr. Monmouth,” Aggravaine apologized. “Please understand Mr. Monmouth, I’ve been searching for pertinent information for over a year. I would hate for all this effort to be wasted on false information.”

Mr. Monmouth sighed. “I understand. It took quite a while to acquire this information, but I assure you that it is accurate.”

They said their goodbyes, and Morgana heard Monmouth leave by Floo. Aggravaine left the library and stopped short when he noticed his ward standing in the hallway.

“Late night wanderings?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Tea.”

“Hm…may I join you?”

“Of course.”

Aggravaine led the way to the kitchen and started making tea. Morgana sat and watched, waiting for the inevitable question.

“So…how much did you hear?”

“Mr. Monmouth’s name and something about accurate information.” Morgana had no reason to lie to him.

Aggravaine tilted his head to the side. “Is that all you heard?” To her nod Aggravaine continued making tea and didn’t say another word until he was finished. “Mr. Monmouth and I were discussing your friend Mordred,” he explained, serving her tea.

Morgana’s eyes widened in interest.

“It would seem you were right,” Aggravaine stopped to sip his tea. “I haven’t verified it yet, but he seems to be from a pureblood family that was thought to have died out.”

“So there are no living relatives at all?” she asked. “Not even distant?”

Aggravaine shook his head. “No. His last living relative would have been his grandfather, who died ten years ago.”

Morgana frowned. “Mordred was already with his adoptive family by then.”

“Once I ensure this is the right family, I’ll try to put the pieces of what happened together,” Aggravaine promised.

“Thank you,” Morgana said quietly.

“You’re welcome,” Aggravaine smiled. “I hope this pleases you. You’ve been short with me since Christmas.”

It was true; Morgana had been cold towards him for months. She didn’t reply to any of his letters while she was at school and, up until Mordred came to stay, she would only respond to Aggravaine in monosyllabic sentences.

Guiltily, Morgana nodded. Pleased with himself, Aggravaine smirked. “Drink your tea, then off to bed with you.”

Morgana took her first sip of tea and was surprised to feel a burning sensation in her throat. “Firewhiskey,” she choked out.

“I figured it would help you sleep.”

Making a face, Morgana finished her tea and headed back to her room.

Mordred was still fast asleep across the foot of her bed. Swaying drunkenly, Morgana climbed in her bed, curled into a ball and fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Morgana glanced at her watch as she made her way to the library. Agravaine was already waiting inside, reading through one of the older genealogy books. She looked from him to the fireplace and back again, her eyebrow raised in question.

Reading her mind, Agravaine shrugged. “They have a few more minutes.”

Sighing, Morgana sat in one of the comfier chairs and straightened her skirt.

“Anxious?” Agravaine questioned.

“A little,” she admitted. “Mordred’s never met the Malfoy’s before. His parents are Muggles and you know how Lucius can be.”

“Protective, are we?”

Morgana glared at him. “I’ll not have anyone disrespect my guest.”

Agravaine smiled reassuringly. “No need to worry about Lucius. I’ll take care of that.”

Mordred appeared in the doorway, looking quite dashing in his white collared shirt and black slacks. “Good afternoon.”

Morgana smiled at him. “Well, don’t you look handsome.”

He grinned sheepishly and held his hands behind his back. “Don’t make me blush.” _‘Why did we have to dress up again? It’s just a Quidditch match.’_

Morgana refrained from rolling her eyes at ‘just a Quidditch match’. _‘We’re watching the match with the Minister. It’s not just about Quidditch, it’s about social status.’_

Mordred sighed. _‘Fun,’_ he said sarcastically. He sat in the chair across from her and crossed his legs. _‘When do we leave?’_

_‘Soon.’_

Mordred frowned. _‘What are we waiting for?’_

His answer came in the form of green smoke emitting from the fireplace. Draco Malfoy stepped out of the flames, dusting the ashes from his robes as he fully entered the library. He was closely followed by Narcissa and then Lucius.

“Agravaine,” Narcissa greeted. “How are you?”

“Well enough,” he replied. “Yourself?”

“The same,” she answered. “Better now that I’ve seen my goddaughter.” Narcissa turned to Morgana, and Morgana couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. “I haven’t seen you all summer.”

Morgana licked her lips. “I’ve had company.” On cue, Mordred stood to his feet. “Narcissa, this is my good friend Mordred Murdoch. Mordred, this is my godmother Narcissa Malfoy and her husband Lucius.”

Narcissa did not offer her hand to shake, so Mordred bowed politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy,” Mordred said.

She looked him up and down. “My Morgana calls you a good friend. Would you call her the same?”

“No ma’am,” Mordred said without hesitation. “She’s far more than that to me.”

Morgana’s heart stopped as Narcissa’s eyes widened. Surely he knew that was a loaded question…

“She’s more like a sister,” he added with a grin. “Horribly annoying sometimes but otherwise tolerable.”

Morgana tilted her head to the side. “Horribly annoying?”

“Dunno, that sounds a bit generous,” Draco commented.

“Murdoch…” Lucius said to himself. “Murdoch… _Murdoch…_ I don’t recall that name. Agravaine, tell me, who were the Murdochs?”

“Muggles,” Agravaine answered promptly. “It’s his adoptive parents’ surname.”

Lucius looked at Mordred as if he were the scum of the earth. “Muggles?”

“His adoptive parents are, yes,” Agravaine reiterated. “But from what I’ve found out, young Mordred may be part of the Driscoll family.”

Lucius turned to look at Agravaine. “Driscoll? As in…Liam Driscoll?”

Agravaine nodded slowly, making Lucius purse his lips in thought. “How interesting… well then, down to business. Who do you favor Agravaine?”

The swift change in subject was not lost on Morgana and she looked at Mordred, who was just as confused.

_‘What just happened?’_ Mordred asked. _‘Who the hell is Liam Driscoll?’_

_‘I don’t know.’_ Morgana answered, _‘but we’ll find out when we get back from the match.’_

“The Irish have a decent team,” Lucius observed. “However, Viktor Krum is unstoppable.”

“Krum may be unstoppable,” Agravaine agreed, “but the rest of the Bulgarians aren’t on his level. They’ll fail him in the end. On the other hand, the Irish have been consistent. They’ll crush the Bulgarians.”

Lucius smirked. “Confident enough to place a wager?”

“500 galleons to the Irish,” Agravaine offered.

“No disrespect, Mr. Du Bois, but isn’t that a bit unexciting?” Mordred blurted.

Morgana stared at her friend, tempted to grab his lips to make him shut up.

“Have you got something more exciting, Mordred?’ Agravaine questioned.

Mordred gave a short nod. “I do sir, yes. The Irish win the cup, but Krum catches the Snitch.”

Both Narcissa and Lucius burst into laughter. “Do you know how Quidditch works, boy?” Lucius asked condescendingly.

“Aye sir, I do,” Mordred nodded again. “And I’m willing to bet a thousand galleons.”

The Malfoys immediately stopped laughing.

_‘What the hell are you doing?!’_ Morgana demanded.

_‘He thinks I’m a joke,’_ Mordred answered. _‘I’ll show him what’s funny.’_

“Do you have any concept of wizarding money, boy?” Lucius asked rudely. “Because I’m not opposed to stripping some Mudblood of his coin.”

Morgana bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself calm. She absolutely hated that word. She hated it even more when it was being aimed at her friends. “I’ll back his bet,” she blurted. “In fact let’s double it, make things more interesting. Two thousand galleons to the Irish taking the Cup but Krum catching the Snitch.”

“Morgana-”

“No no,” Lucius held up a hand to silence Agravaine. “I’ll take that wager, my dear. This can be a lesson in loss for you.” He produced an old looking pocket watch from his robes and placed it on the side table near her chair.

_‘What’s that?’_ Mordred asked, eyeing the pocket watch.

_‘Portkey,’_ Morgana explained. _‘It will take us to the match location.’_

_‘Oh,’_ he paused and said, _‘You didn’t have to do that. He would have taken the bet eventually just to boost his ego.’_

Morgana shot him a discreet smile. _‘True, but I’ll never bet against my boys.’_

* * *

 

Mordred hadn’t stopped chuckling since Krum’s hands closed around the Snitch. Luckily the screaming crowd drowned out Lucius’ growl of fury and Morgana had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from outright laughing.

After congregating in the Minister’s tent to discuss the match, Morgana, Mordred and Draco excused themselves. They wandered through the camp to Morgana’s tent, still laughing at Lucius’ misfortune.

“So how are you going to spend your Galleons, Morgana?” Mordred asked. “I’m thinking of getting some brand new dress robes.”

Morgana shrugged. “Dunno. Think I’ll invest it.”

Draco rolled his eyes at her. “Such a LeFay thing to do.”

“You mean being financially responsible instead of splurging on frivolous fancies?” Morgana smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Screaming from outside the tent caught the Slytherin’s attention and all three rushed to the opening of the tent to see what was going on. A large group of wizards wearing masks were making their way through the campsite. Floating above them were four people, two of which were children.

“Goddess,” Morgana said under her breath.

The woman in the group of four was flipped upside down and Draco laughed at her attempts to cover herself.

“That’s funny to you?” Morgana demanded.

“What?” Draco said nonchalantly. “They’re just Muggles.”

Morgana’s eyes widened incredulously. “Just Muggles?”

“They’re coming this way,” Mordred warned, placing a hand on Morgana’s arm. “We need to go. Now.”

Still angry, Morgana grabbed Draco by the sleeve and dragged him along. They saw other wizard families escaping towards the woods, so they followed.

“They’re not going to hurt us,” Draco complained. “Well they might hurt Mordred. His parents _are_ filthy Muggles.”

Mordred skidded to a stop and rounded on Draco. “Say something else about my parents and I swear I’ll-”

**_CRASH_ **

Two figures appeared out of nowhere. The first ran right into Mordred, taking them both to the ground. The second was able to stop just shy of colliding with the heap of bodies at his feet.

“Mordred!” Morgana rushed to her friend’s side. A familiar…humming feeling washed over her and she rolled her eyes in annoyance… _Of course. Of bloody course._ “Merlin?”

* * *

 

The ringing in his ears subsided long enough to hear his own name in a voice he hadn’t heard in over a month. “Morgana?”

 With Neville’s help, Merlin got to his feet and turned to his two best friends. “Well hello,” he greeted.

“You know, when you mentioned running into each other at the match, I didn’t think you meant literally,” Mordred said with a grimace.

“Sorry mate,” Merlin apologized. “Dad told us to get to the forest.”

“Oh? And where’s he?” Merlin hadn’t noticed Draco standing off to the side. “Your father seems to have a habit of running off, doesn’t he?”

“You’re one to talk,” Merlin responded. “Where’s your father? Wearing a mask like the rest of those cowards?”

“Uh, if you gentlemen are done with your wand measuring contest,” Morgana interrupted. “They’re still headed this way.” She pulled on Merlin’s sweater. _‘Come on Merlin.’_

At her beckoning, Merlin backed off and followed her into the forest. _‘Any idea of what’s going on?’_

_‘No,’_ Mordred answered. _‘We heard commotion outside the tent and took off after everyone else.’_

_‘I hope Agravaine’s ok,’_ Morgana commented.

Merlin snorted. _‘I’m sure he’s perfectly fine.’_

Morgana stopped walking to glare at him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

A loud bang coming from the campsite made Merlin flinch. “Nothing,” he took her hand and pulled her further into the woods. “Just keep moving.”

Soon enough, the lights of campsite were blocked by the trees, leaving them in darkness.

“Lumos,” Mordred whispered, the tip of his wand illuminating forest.

_‘What, no ball of light?’_ Merlin asked cheekily.

Mordred grinned over his shoulder. _‘Didn’t want to scare the Gryffindor.’_  His eyes flitted down to Merlin and Morgana’s joined hands and his grin widened.

They let go of each other’s hands at the same time, and Merlin slid his hands in his pockets.

_‘Nothing like a riot to bring people together,’_ Mordred commented, wagging his eyebrows. Merlin was under the impression that Mordred was speaking to him directly…since Morgana didn’t shove him to the ground.

They came to a clearing dimly lit by the moon in the night sky.

“You think we’re in far enough?” Neville asked.

Merlin agreed. They had stopped hearing all the chaos quite a while ago. “This should be far enough I think.”

“Wait a minute,” Morgana stared into the dark forest. “Where’s Draco?”

 “Who cares?” Mordred responded harshly.

The glare Morgana sent Mordred’s way made Merlin wonder what happened before he ran into them.

_‘Did I miss something?’_  he asked.

She shook her head. _‘This clearing reminds me of our place at Hogwarts… a bit too quiet though.’_ She suddenly turned to face the campsite. _‘Except for that.’_

Merlin faced the same direction. Three people emerged from the woods, one of which was speaking rather loudly.

“Do you think they’ve been drinking, or are they just-” She gasped at the sight of them standing in the clearing but visibly relaxed once she recognized them. “Oh, it’s just you.”

Merlin smiled at her. “Good to see you too, Hermione.” On either side of her stood Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.

“Hey guys,” Neville greeted.

“Neville?” Harry squinted in the dark. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh you know,” Mordred said sarcastically, “he just wanted to go for a walk in the moonlight, coincidently avoiding a bloody riot in the process.”

“Nobody was talking to you,” Ron snapped.

Mordred crossed her arms. “No one was talking to you either.”

“Uh, Merlin invited me to see the match and Gram said I could stay for the rest of the summer,” Neville said, interrupting the argument. “How’ve you been Harry?”

Harry and Ron made eye contact and engaged in a wordless conversation that ended in Ron shrugging and Harry telling Neville about his summer at a place called ‘the Burrow.’

“Boys,” Merlin heard Hermione mumble under her breath.

Morgana stood next to her, nodding her head slowly. “Mmhm.” She shivered and rubbed her arms.

“Are you cold?” Hermione asked quietly. “Where’s your jacket?”

“I didn’t have time to grab it,” Morgana admitted.

Merlin took his sweater off and offered it to her, but she refused to take it.

“What about you?” Morgana frowned.

Merlin shrugged, still offering the sweater. “I’ll be fine.”

Smiling, she took it and put it on. The sweater was two sizes too big and didn’t look like anything she would choose for herself to wear.

“Nice sweater, LeFay,” Mordred chuckled.

“Shut up Mordred.” Morgana snapped. “It’s warm and that’s what matters. Thank you Merlin.”

Before he could open his mouth to reply, a sick, off-balanced feeling hit Merlin in the stomach. He turned her head to find the source of this odd feeling and it seemed to be coming from a very specific spot in the forest. Morgana and Mordred turned to look also…along with Harry. His gaze was locked on the exact spot that caught Merlin’s attention.

“What’s going on?” Neville asked, noticing the change in their demeanor.

Merlin shushed him. “Sshh. You feel that too, Harry?”

Without shifting his gaze, Harry liked his lips, swallowed and then slowly nodded. He took a step forward, but Merlin cut off his stride.

“Where’s your wand?”

“I…I dropped it.” Harry admitted.

Merlin clenched his jaw to keep from swearing. “Stay behind me.” The atmosphere around them changed, there was a crackle of magic in the air and then…on instinct Merlin put up a shield between the forest and his classmates. It was just in time, as a red spell hit the shield as soon as it was put up.

Ron swore loudly. “What the fu-”

“MORSMORDE!”

He wasn’t familiar with the spell but, Merlin kept his eyes on the forest, certain that ‘Morsmorde’ was just a distraction.

“Expelliarmus!” Morgana shouted. A wand flew out of the forest and landed at her feet. She made no move to pick it up and kept her wand raised.

Merlin stepped towards the forest, but was immediately hindered by a wizard who appeared in front of him with a ‘pop’. A series of more popping noises announced several more wizards appearing in the clearing, all of which had their wands raised.

“DUCK!” Harry shouted.

While his classmates hit the dirt, Merlin stood his ground and put up another shield.

“STUPEFY!”

The fiery red spell lit up Merlin’s shield and his hands began to shake from the force of all the spells at once.

“STOP!” A man yelled. “That’s my son!”

The Wizards stopped casting immediately and Merlin dropped to his knees, drained from the effort to block so many spells. He barely had time to catch his breath when he was roughly grabbed by his collar.

Merlin looked up at the person who grabbed him and found a crazed looking man.

“You!” he shouted in Merlin’s ear, “you conjured the Dark Mark!”

Merlin grimaced as the man shook him. “Wha-?”

“Barty, let him go,” warned Arthur Weasley. “He didn’t do this, none of them did.”

“They’re kids,” added a witch in a wool dressing gown. “They’d never have been able to cast it.”

“They are at the scene of the crime. And this one,” Barty shook Merlin for emphasis, “was using magic.”

“Barty,” Mr. Weasley pleaded. “ _Please._ ”

“You may want to listen to Arthur and take your hands off my son.” Merlin easily recognized his father’s voice despite the dark and malicious tone. Barty let go of Merlin as Balinor came into view at the edge of the clearing. He was accompanied by Aredian, who looked just as angry as Balinor.

“Which one of you did it?” Barty demanded accusingly. “Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?”

“We didn’t do that!” Harry insisted.

“We didn’t do anything!” Ron added.

“Well what _did_ happen?” Aredian asked calmly.

“Over there,” Hermione pointed a shaky finger in the direction of where they heard the voice. “There was someone behind the trees…they shouted words…an incantation.”

Several wizards went to investigate where Hermione pointed, but Barty’s face was etched in disbelief.

“Stood over there you say? An incantation? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy.”

“She’s a witch,” Mordred blurted. “A damn good one.”

“Whoever did it is long gone,” said the witch in the dressing gown. “They Disapparated.”

“Couldn’t have,” Morgana said. “I disarmed them.”

Merlin looked down, searching the forest floor. The wand that came from whoever cast the spell lay where Morgana left it. Merlin slowly knelt down to pick it up. “You can’t Disapperate without a wand, right?” He held it up for everyone to see.

“Wait.” Harry came closer, examining the wand. “That’s _my_ wand!”

“There’s someone here!” shouted a wizard. “Unconscious. It’s…but…oh blimey.” He loudly emerged from behind the trees, carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms.

Morgana quietly gasped at Merlin’s side. _‘What?’_  he asked.

_‘That’s Winky…Barty Crouch’s house elf,’_ she explained.

Barty Crouch stared down at the knocked out house elf in absolute shock. “This – can’t…no no…” he mumbled under his breath.

“She was right where they pointed,” the scrubby wizard said.

“Come now, Amos,” Mr. Weasley said. “It couldn’t have been the house elf. The Dark Mark’s a wizard’s sign. It needs a wand.”

Aredian turned to Merlin. “Didn’t you find a wand?”

Merlin glanced at Morgana before answering. “Uh, Morgana disarmed whoever it was. That came from over there,” he said, pointing in the direction of where they found the house elf.

Aredian frowned. “Alright, but where did she get the wand _from_?”

Harry gulped. “It’s…it’s mine, sir.”

“Yours?” the wizard named Amos demanded. “Is that a confession?”

“No!” Harry shouted.

“Honestly,” said Mr. Weasley angrily. “Is _Harry Potter_ likely to conjure the Dark Mark?”

Aredian looked at Harry skeptically. “How is it that a house elf came by your wand, Mr. Potter?”

Harry gulped again. “I…I must have dropped it...in all the commotion.”

“So it’s possible that she picked it up,” Aredian conjectured, speaking to the Ministry officials in the clearing.

“I think we should hear what she’s got to say for herself,” said Amos. He pointed his wand at Winky and said “ _Ennervate!”_

Winky stirred and blinked several times. Clearly confused, she moved into a sitting position before her gaze slowly made its way up and towards the Dark Mark that was still shining in the sky. Her eyes widened in fear and broke into terrified sobs.

 “Elf!” said Amos sternly. “Do you know who I am? I’m a member of the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!”

Winky began to rock back and forth on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts. Merlin felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He did _not_ like the way this house-elf was being addressed.

_‘Dad-’_

_‘I know.’_

“As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago,” said Amos. “And you were discovered right beneath it. An explanation, if you please!”

“I – I – I is not doing it, sir!” Winky gasped. “I is not knowing how, sir!”

“What’s the last thing you remember, Winky?” Aredian asked, his voice firm but much gentler than Amos'.

“I doesn’t know, sir!” Winky cried. “It was red and bright and I doesn’t know!”

“Sounds like a disarming spell to me.” Aredian said the Amos. “It’s possible that Miss LeFay was a bit…enthusiastic and knocked Winky out. It’s not unheard of.”

“You were knocked out by a disarming spell, proving you were in possession of a wand!” Amos barked at Winky.

 “It wasn’t her!” Hermione said. Her voice shook of nervousness, perhaps from addressing so many Ministry wizards, but she seemed determined. “Winky’s got a squeaky little voice, and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!”

“She’s right,” Morgana spoke up. “The voice was much deeper, like a man’s.”

“There’s a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed,” Aredian said, holding his hand out. Merlin hesitated a moment before handing over the wand. Aredian raised his wand to the tip of Harry’s. “Prior Incantato!”

A gigantic serpent-tongued skull emerged from the point the two wands met, but it was made of thick gray smoke.

“Deletrius!” As quickly as it had appeared, the image disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

“So,” said Amos Diggory with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still trembling.

“I is not doing it!” she squealed. “I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn’t using wands, I isn’t knowing how!”

“Amos,” said Mr. Crouch brusquely. “I’m aware that, in an ordinary case, you would want to take Winky in for questioning. I ask, however, to allow me to deal with her.”

Winky’s trembling got much, much worse and Merlin feared what would happen to the poor little elf.

“You may rest assured that she will be punished,” Mr. Crouch added coldly. “Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible. I told her to remain in the tent while I went to sort out the trouble and then I find that she disobeyed me. _This means clothes_.”

“No!” Winky shrieked. “Not clothes, not clothes!”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but was swiftly cut off by Morgana’s curt but discreet “uh uh.”

_‘It’s better for Winky if she receives clothes,’_ Morgana explained to Merlin. _‘She’ll probably end up at Hogwarts but at least she’s away from Crouch.’_

Winky’s cries echoed in the forest clearing. The only interruption was by Mr. Weasley mumbling, “Well, I think I’ll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody’s got any objections.”

Aredian handed Harry his wand back, who quickly pocketed it.

“I’ll do the same with mine,” Balinor said, beckoning Merlin and Neville to follow him. “Miss LeFay, Mr. Murdoch, I’ll gladly escort you both back to the campsite.”

The group headed back through the forest, the sound of nothing but the underbrush interrupting the silence of the night. Merlin felt bad for Winky, but they still didn’t know who cast that incantation.

_‘Dad?’_

Balinor glanced over his shoulder at his son but kept walking. _‘Yes?’_

_‘I just thought of something.’_

_‘Oh?’_

_‘I think whoever cast that spell has Old Magic.’_

Balinor stopped walking and turned to look Merlin in the eye. _‘And want makes you think that?’_

Merlin glanced at the others, who had slowed down their pace in curiosity. _‘I felt their magic,’ he admitted. ‘Mordred and Morgana felt it, and well… Harry said he felt it too.’_

Balinor frowned in confusion. _‘Harry felt it? Are you sure?’_

Merlin nodded. _‘It was like everyone’s name was being called at once but only me, Morgana, Mordred and Harry heard it. Only…there was no noise, but we looked up anyway.’_

_‘How interesting…’_

_‘I suppose,’_ Merlin shrugged. _‘But dad, why didn’t you tell me Harry has Old Magic?’_

_‘Well that’s what makes it interesting, son,’_ Balinor put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and ushered him through the forest, their pace much faster than before. _‘Harry doesn’t have Old Magic.’_


	4. Chapter 4

Although the rest of the night was uneventful, Merlin could not go to sleep. His thoughts kept wandering back to the mysterious wizard that conjured the Dark Mark. What were their motivations exactly? Why did they try and curse Merlin and his classmates? And why did the adults seem more concerned about the Dark Mark than the wizards that tore up the campsite?

Merlin wasn’t the only one who had a sleepless night. Neville was wide awake too. His usual snores didn’t fill the tent throughout the night but neither of them felt like having a conversation. They didn’t leave the campsite until the next morning, when Balinor Apparated them back to Romania’s Dragon Sanctuary.

Slowly, the three trudged their way to the House of Ambrosius. Gaius was waiting for them just inside the foyer. He stood and cleared his throat.

“Thank the Goddess,” he said under his breath. “Balinor, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to borrow Merlin and Neville for a few hours.”

“Trying to spare them my wrath, Gaius?”

Merlin’s heart froze in his chest. His mother was hardly ever angry, but when she was there was no mistaking it in her tone.

 _‘Gaius?’_ Balinor questioned.

The old wizard sighed. _‘I tried to catch you before she did. I’m sorry old friend.’_

Hunith descended the top of the staircase in the foyer and stopped at the bottom step. She folded her arms in front of her and Merlin noticed a rolled up parchment in one of her hands. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Balinor replied.

“Have fun at the match?” she asked.

Merlin nodded, ensuring he remained as quiet as possible and tried taking very shallow breaths.

Hunith’s face was completely neutral. “Any…strange occurrences?”

Balinor and Merlin traded looks. It was obvious that she knew the answer to her own question and it was best, in times like these, to be completely honest.

“A few drunken fans got a bit rowdy,” Balinor answered.

Hunith raised an eyebrow at him. “Drunken fans?”

“Mmhm.”

“Got rowdy?”

“A little bit, yes.” Balinor nodded.

Hunith unfolded her arms, unraveled the parchment in her hands and held it up for them to see. It was the Daily Prophet with a moving picture of the Dark Mark as its front page. Balinor winced and Merlin held his breath.

Balinor cleared his throat. “Sweetheart-”

“Do not _‘sweetheart’_ me.” Hunith said, cutting him off. “An owl taps on the window at breakfast and here I am expecting to see the results of the match. Instead I’m greeted with _this_ ,” she waved the newspaper angrily.

“Hunith, please-”

“You, my husband, have _our son_ and the son of _Frank and Alice Longbottom_ at the site where the Dark Mark pops up after _thirteen years_ , and you don’t think to come home?” Her voice cracked and she closed her eyes. When she reopened them, they were full of tears. Instinctively, Merlin moved to hug his mother. She kissed his temple with a sniffle.

“You’re right, we should have come home,” Balinor admitted. “That’s my fault-”

“I’m not trying to place blame on anyone,” Hunith said, releasing Merlin from her hold. “I just…need you boys to be more careful. It feels like a war is starting all over again and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you.”

Magic pulled Merlin away from his mother and it wasn’t until Balinor wrapped Hunith in his arms that Merlin realized where the magic came from. Gaius’ eyes were still golden as he motioned to the front door. With a nod, Merlin followed Gauis outside with Neville right behind him.

“Well,” Gaius said loudly, breaking the awkward silence. “If the two of you don’t mind, I could use your assistance.”

“Don’t mind at all,” Merlin agreed. “Wait, what are we doing?”

“It’s too late for that, young man, you’ve already agreed.” Gaius chuckled. “I need you to gather a few ingredients for me. Just some Valerian and wormwood. Also, if you can get some dragon saliva, I’d be very appreciative. I asked Gwaine a few days ago but that boy can be so absentminded…”

Merlin snorted. “What do you think, Neville?” When Neville didn’t reply, Merlin turned to his friend.

The Gryffindor was looking down at the ground with his hands in his pockets. He responded with a somber, “sounds like fun.”

Merlin frowned. “Alright there, Neville?”

Still staring at the ground, Neville nodded. “I didn’t know your mum knew my parents.”

“There aren’t very many people that Mr. Ambrose _doesn’t_ know. Come on you two.” Gaius said abruptly, quickening his pace. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

* * *

Merlin looked at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands, yawning. His eyes were red and he could see exhaustion written all over his face. Gaius had kept Merlin and Neville busy for most of the day, only releasing the two wizards when the sun was setting. Between hunching over to pick flowers and mushrooms to reaching up to scrape saliva from a dragon’s tooth, Merlin’s back ached. He was sleeping just fine, until nature called in the middle of the night. He yawned again and stretched before he left the bathroom.

The snores from Neville’s room crept its way into the hall and Merlin was pleased that his friend was getting rest…especially with the way the last two days had gone. Quietly, so as not to disturb anyone, Merlin shuffled his way back to his room. He heard voices as he was passing the stairs and couldn’t help but stop to listen.

Listening very, _very_ carefully, Merlin could just barely make out what was being said.

“How is that even possible?” he heard his mother say.

“Very, very Dark Magic,” his father replied.

“Gaius and I came up with a hypothesis on the matter.”

Merlin frowned at the sound of the third voice. _Is that Dumbledore?_ Curiosity got the better of him, and Merlin found himself tiptoeing down the stairs to hear more of the conversation.

“You have my full attention, headmaster,” Hunith said.

They were in the living room, so Merlin flattened himself against the wall that separated the room from the foyer.

Dumbledore sighed. “Well I will spare you the details, my dear, but it involves splitting one’s soul and placing a piece of it in another vessel.”

“What’s the point of that?” Hunith asked.

“If a wizard is attacked and his body is destroyed, part of his soul is still in another vessel and attached to the earth,” Balinor answered. “Thus, still alive…technically.”

“It sounds good in theory,” Gaius said, “but those who were successful in this endeavor…well...”

“Well…what?” Hunith asked.

“The Goddess didn’t take too kindly to Her magic being defiled in such a way,” Gaius answered. “She was merciless to those few who managed to perform the ritual correctly.”

“And those that didn’t?” Hunith questioned. “What happened to them?”

“If they were lucky, they died,” Dumbledore answered. “The not so lucky were horribly disfigured, showing the state of their soul on the outside. The Goddess cast them from Her sight, declaring them as no children of Hers.”

“This sounds like a common practice,” Hunith said softly.

“It almost was,” Balinor confirmed. “It started around the Great Purge. Witches and wizards did what they thought was necessary to live through it…if you can call that living.”

 “But to lose favor with the Goddess?” Hunith asked in disbelief. “Just to live a little while longer?”

“Fear of death, of the unknown, is a powerful motivator,” Dumbledore said solemnly. “But, I believe this conversation has taken a left turn and I must apologize. Please Balinor, what was it that needed my attention?”

“It was something Merlin told me,” Balinor responded.

Merlin’s heart skipped at the mention of his name.

“He said they felt the wizard’s presence before they knew for sure he was there.” Balinor paused. “We already knew Morgana LeFay and Mordred Murdoch have Old Magic, but Merlin said that Harry Potter sensed the person too.”

The silence that followed that statement made Merlin think he’d gone temporarily deaf.

“Say…say that again,” Dumbledore asked, his voice oddly quiet and unsure. “Please.”

Balinor repeated himself.

“But,” Hunith started, unsure of herself, “I thought the Potters didn’t have Old Magic.”

“They don’t, my love,” Balinor said softly. “They never have.”

“Albus,” Gaius started slowly, “is it possible -?”

“No.” Dumbledore answered firmly. “No, the ritual…wasn’t complete.”

“The ritual wasn’t complete,” Balinor repeated slowly, “so Tom became disfigured. He _was_ hanging out the back of Quirrell’s head at one point.”

“This changes things,” Dumbledore said slowly. “Yes… Please forgive my abrupt departure, but I must go.”

Merlin heard shuffling and his gut told him to get back to his room, _now_. As quietly as he could, Merlin ran on his tiptoes up the stairs and into his room. He closed his bedroom door with a soft click and dove back into his bed, pretending to be asleep.

He stayed that way for what felt like forever, waiting for someone to barge in his room and accuse him of eavesdropping. When no one came, Merlin allowed himself to relax and sighed. _Well there goes a night’s sleep,_ he thought. There were too many things on Merlin’s mind, and he couldn’t wait to tell Morgana and Mordred what he’d heard.

* * *

Morgana stopped her search through newspaper articles as Agravaine opened the door to his bedroom. He seemed completely unfazed to find his ward sitting in the middle of his bed, cross legged with newspapers and books surrounding her.

“It’s almost two in the morning and you have a train to catch in a few hours,” he said calmly. “You should be sleeping.”

Morgana raised an eyebrow at him. “So should you.”

He chuckled and shook his head at her. “Tell me, what have you found?”

“Liam Driscoll is alive.” Morgana held up the genealogy book for Agravaine to take. “You said he was dead but Lucius’ reaction to the name made me wonder.”

“Mr. Malfoy,” Agravaine corrected, taking the book from her.

She ignored him. “Mordred and I started looking in the library for anything but there was nothing there. So, I figured you had everything.”

“And?” he prompted.

“Liam Driscoll is alive but was arrested for murder,” Morgana held up a newspaper clipping. “They said he killed a woman.”

Agravaine nodded slowly. “Cait was her name. Cait Bishop…and before that she was Cait Driscoll, Liam’s daughter.”

Morgana frowned. “But the book doesn’t have an heir for him. His line stops with him.”

“He disowned her,” Agravaine explained. “She married a Muggleborn, Logan or Luke Bishop; I’d have to double check the name. The Driscoll family, I’m sure you noticed, is very old, and completely pure.”

Morgana scoffed. “So it wasn’t enough to erase her from the family, he had to kill her too?”

Agravaine sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s not even the worst part, to be honest.”

“No?”

“No.” Agravaine cleared his throat. “Now this isn’t public knowledge, and I had to give several favors to gain this information so let’s keep this as quiet as possible, alright?”

Morgana nodded slowly.

“Liam was caught by a mediwitch at St. Mungos. She found him cutting Cait open with a knife, not in the chest like you’d expect with a murder, but in her stomach. He was cutting out the child she was carrying.”

Morgana covered her mouth with her hands. _Mordred._

“It was a miracle the baby survived at all, and the mediwitch thought the child was still in danger so she took him to a Muggle orphanage.” Agravaine shook his head. “A quite pleasant Muggle family adopted him, named him Mordred Murdoch, and went about their business.”

“Why?” Morgana asked quietly. “Why would someone do that?”

“You will learn, as you get older, that people are capable of anything. Some are good things. Others are evil beyond description.” Agravaine looked at her sadly. “I will do my best to protect you from the latter.”

“I know.”

“Good. Then you’ll know that I have to protect you from yourself also, mainly, from your bad habits.” Agravaine stood and offered his hand. “You should be sleeping, so off to bed you go.”

With a roll of her eyes, Morgana took his hand and let him help her off his bed. “I’m not tired.”

“A shot of whiskey?”

“No,” she answered promptly. “I’d rather stare at the ceiling.”

“Have a good night staring.”

She grinned at him and made her way to the door.

“Morgana?”

“Hm?”

Agravaine sighed. “At least try and get some rest.”

Morgana grinned at him. “No promises. Goodnight Agravaine.”

He shook his head at her. “Goodnight.”

* * *

  _Dear Morgana,_

_A friend of mine mentioned both you and the Dark Mark in the same sentence and that did not sit well with me. I was also told that both you and young Mr. Ambrose seem perfectly capable sorcerers. I hope that you are well and enjoying your summer despite such an awful incident._

_I will see you soon enough. However, there is something that I wish to tell you before we meet again, just a word._

_Occlumency._

_Sincerely,_

_Morgause_

Morgana frowned down at the letter. _What was that supposed to mean? I’ll see you soon enough?_

“She’s weird,” Mordred declared from behind her shoulder.

Morgana glared at him from the corner of her eye.

“What?” he asked, raising his hands in surrender. “You were thinking it.”

“Was not.”

“Were too.”

She shoved him and he fell on the library couch, laughing.

“You really are an annoying little brother,” Morgana said, rolling her eyes at him.

“You love me,” he replied, smiling widely. “It’s ok. You can admit it.”

She rolled her eyes at him again and neatly refolded the letter from Morgause. “Have you heard of Occlumency before?”

“Nope,” he answered. “What is it?”

Morgana scanned the books on the shelves as she spoke. “Some say it’s hiding your intentions. Others say it’s closing your mind off to those skilled in Legilimency.”

“Let me guess,” Mordred cleared his throat, “Legilimency is…reading someone’s mind?”

Morgana nodded, still searching the shelves. “Or their memories, which ultimately holds the truth.”

“Oookay…why would she randomly bring that up in her letter?”

“It’s not random- aha!” Finding the book she’d been looking for, Morgana snatched it from the shelf and plopped down on the couch next to Mordred. “She told me when we first met that I need to protect my mind.”

“And have you?” Mordred asked.

“I didn’t know what she meant then,” Morgana insisted, flipping through a few pages of the text. “But… Occlumency is really, really advanced. There’s no way she can expect me to master this.”

Mordred shrugged. “I don’t know… you’re pretty good…oh don’t look at me like that! You know you’re an amazing witch.”

Morgana grinned wickedly at him. “Am I, how’d you say it? ‘A damn good one?’”

Mordred groaned and covered his face. “I still can’t believe I said that!”

“You didn’t just say it. I think you may have growled it a little bit,” Morgana laughed.

“Shut. Up.”

“Please tell me the two of you are ready to go.” Agravaine stood, looking quite annoyed, just inside the library.

“Ready when you are,” Morgana said, standing to her feet.

“Another book?” Agravaine asked, glaring at the book in her hands.

Careful to hide the title, Morgana closed the book and shook her head. “We were just skimming a few pages before we left.”

“Uh uh,” he replied skeptically. “Let’s be on our way.”

The moment Agravaine turned his back, Mordred snatched the book away from Morgana, shrunk it and shoved it in his pocket. _‘You don’t think that’ll have a bad effect on the on the text, do you?’_ Mordred asked.

 _‘Dunno,’_ Morgana answered, rushing to catch up to Agravaine. _‘I suppose we’ll find out on the train.’_


	5. Chapter 5

It was the same conversation every time Morgana left for Hogwarts. Behave yourself, write when you can…

"…and let me know if you've left anything."

Morgana smiled at her guardian. "I will. Promise."

"Good." Agravaine kissed the crown on her head and turned to Mordred. "Mr. Murdoch."

Mordred stood a bit straighter. "Yes sir?"

Agravaine offered his hand and Mordred firmly shook it. "It's been… interesting." Mordred just smiled back.

With final goodbyes said, Morgana and Mordred boarded the sparsely populated train and found their compartment.

"I was under the impression we were running late," Mordred commented, as he put away their luggage.

"Agravaine always says 'if you're early, you're on time; if you're on time, you're late.'" Morgana replied. "If nothing else can be said about him, he's punctual."

"So…" Mordred sat down in his seat. "Did you ask Agravaine about Liam Driscoll?"

Morgana bit her bottom lip and nodded. "Uh huh."

"I'm not a fan of that face," he replied with a frown. "What did he say?"

"You're not going to like it."

"I'm not going to like anything that happened before the orphanage, but I still want to know," he rebutted.

"Fine," Morgana sighed. "Liam Driscoll is alive, but he's in Azkaban."

Mordred frowned. "The prison. Why?"

"Murder."

Mordred sat back in his seat and at Morgana for a long time. He cleared his throat before asking, "Who?"

Judging from the sadness in his eyes, Mordred already knew the answer to his own question. "Your mother," Morgana said quietly.

Mordred looked down at his hands and nodded. "Why?"

Morgana shook her head. "I don't know for sure."

"How do we know for sure that he murdered her?"

She couldn't look at him anymore. Morgana closed her eyes, hoping it would make delivering this awful piece of information easier. "They found him at St. Mungo's…the hospital," Morgana explained. "One of the Mediwitch's caught him cutting her open…cutting you out of her."

"Well, that makes sense." Morgana looked up to find Mordred on his feet. He lifted his shirt enough to see a silver scar leading from behind his shoulder to his ribs. "At least now I know where that scar comes from. Cut a bit too deep, Liam did." He fixed his shirt and left the compartment, mumbling that he needed a moment.

Mordred threw the compartment door open and rushed out, barreling past a very confused looking Merlin without as much as an acknowledgement. Slowly, Merlin poked his head in the compartment and made eye contact with Morgana. His eyes flitted in the direction of Mordred and looked back at her. She gave him a smile that she was sure didn't reach her eyes.

_'What did I miss?'_ he asked.

_'Later.'_

"Okay then." Merlin entered the compartment and situated his luggage before turning to Neville to do the same for him. The Gryffindor stood there, looking very unsure of himself. "I can put that up for you, if you want," Merlin offered.

"Is it okay if I sit you guys?" Neville asked.

Morgana raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you serious?"

Merlin chuckled. "Sit down, Neville," he insisted, as he took his Neville's luggage and stored it. "How was your summer, Morgana?"

"Informative," she answered quickly. "Yours?"

Merlin plopped down in his seat. "It was alright, right Neville?"

"Yeah, it was great!" Neville's expression slowly faded away. "Until…yesterday."

Merlin chuckled. "Yesterday was not that bad."

"Yesterday was terrible."

"What happened yesterday?" Morgana asked, curiously.

"We went shopping," Neville whispered.

Morgana frowned at them. "The two of you waited until yesterday go to school shopping?"

"No, we had our books. Mum just thought we needed some new clothes," Merlin explained. "That wasn't that bad… okay, the worst part was the dress robes."

"So many pins," Neville said, staring off into space. "So many."

Morgana bit back a smile and shook her head. "You poor things."

Merlin rolled his eyes at her. "Why do we need dress robes anyway?"

She let herself smirk.

"You know something, don't you?" Neville asked.

"Of course I do," Morgana replied.

Merlin crossed his arms. "You're not going to tell us, are you?"

"Of course I'm not."

Once the train started rolling, a composed Mordred returned to the compartment, joined by Daphne and Astoria.

"How was your summer?" Merlin politely asked the Greengrass sisters.

"Oh it was dreadful. Trapped in the house for months, unable to see my friends and then I was grounded right before the World Cup." Daphne sighed dramatically. "It was the worst summer I've ever had."

"It was your own fault." Astoria insisted.

Daphne dropped the act and grinned. "I'll take some responsibility for it, yeah."

"Some?" Astoria sat next to Mordred and crossed her legs. "You messed up so bad, you ruined my summer."

"What did you do?" Mordred asked.

Morgana covered her mouth to keep from laughing. She knew exactly what her friend had done. Daphne had written a letter weeks ago, explaining why she and Astoria wouldn't be attending the Quidditch World Cup.

Daphne cast a glance in Morgana's direction and smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her skirt. "I might have written a certain letter to a certain person about certain things…"

Astoria crossed her arms. "Daphne, if you don't tell them, I will."

"I might have written a love letter." She cleared her throat, "And my father might have read it-"

"She had it sitting out on her bloody desk," Astoria cut in. "Who does that?"

Mordred snorted in laughter.

"I wasn't being serious," Daphne defended. "Besides, dad isn't even supposed to go in my room."

"You can imagine the smoke coming out of his ears by the time we got home from Diagon Alley," Astoria said.

Daphne smirked. "We might not have been able to go to the Cup, but the look on his face was absolutely priceless, Morgana. I swear, if given the choice to do it again or go to the match, I'd write that letter."

Both Merlin and Neville started laughing.

"It's not funny," Astoria insisted. "Mom said I couldn't go because she couldn't go."

"I don't even care," Daphne giggled. "His face was worth it."

"Ugh." Astoria stood and headed for the door. She turned to Mordred. "Are you sitting with them?"

Mordred nodded his head. "I'll catch up to you later."

With a 'hmph', Astoria left the compartment.

"Poor thing," Daphne said, shaking her head. "Well then, I'm off to get gossip from Pansy." Daphne stood to her feet. "Gentlemen," she said in farewell. "I'll let you know what she says about you Morgana."

Merlin frowned. "Pansy doesn't like you?"

"She hardly likes herself," Morgana replied. "You might get on with everyone in your dormitory, but it's not like that for everyone."

"Oh!" Neville jumped up. "I should let Dean and Seamus know that I'm sitting with you. I'll be back."

Merlin wasted no time. As soon as the three sorcerers were left alone, he turned to Mordred. "You alright? You seemed…bothered earlier."

"Yeah, about that…sorry mate," Mordred apologized. "I didn't see you. I was a bit….uh, distracted."

Merlin looked at Morgana, who swiftly looked elsewhere. If Mordred wanted Merlin to know, Mordred would have to be the one to tell him.

"What happened?" Merlin asked carefully.

"Granddad killed my mum," Mordred said in an odd, disconnected tone. "I guess they found him cutting me out of her."

Merlin's mouth fell open. "Wait, what?"

Morgana gave Mordred a worried look; one that he waved off. "I'm okay," he insisted.

She raised an eyebrow at him. Morgana could see that his sadness had turned into a quiet rage. "Mordred."

"I'll be fine," he said, and this time she believed him.

Morgana gave him a short nod, and decided to change the subject. "How was the rest of the summer with Mr. Longbottom?"

Merlin was still in shock, as it took him a moment to form an answer. "Uh…it was alright, I suppose."

_'Keep going,'_ Morgana encouraged.

"Uh, Neville and Gaius seemed to get on really well," he added. "They talked about Herbology the whole time."

"Neville likes Herbology?" Mordred asked. He seemed much more relaxed now that the focus had been taken off him.

Merlin chuckled. "He claims it's the only thing he's good at. But I reckon he'd be really good at Defense if he would work on it a bit more. He's got the theory down, but as far as putting it to use…well, he could use some practice."

"Is that all you two did this summer?" Morgana questioned.

"Well yeah," Merlin answered with a shrug. "Though, Dumbledore did come to visit a few nights ago."

Morgana tilted her head to the side. "What for?"

Merlin took a deep breath before explaining some Dark ritual, and its possible connection with Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort.

"Well that's unfortunate," Mordred declared insincerely.

Merlin frowned at him.

"What?" Mordred asked defensively. "I'm still picking out decorations for my own pity party over here. It's kind of hard to feel bad for Poor Potter at the moment."

Any further discussion on the subject was halted when Neville returned. Silently, the three sorcerers decided not to talk about Harry in front of Neville. Instead, Neville, Mordred and Merlin took turns playing Exploding Snap while Morgana read one of her books.

* * *

Aside from two more interruptions, (the first from Draco who wanted to speak to Morgana privately and the second from Hermione who wished to discuss Arithmancy) the journey to Hogwarts was uneventful. From the Sorting to the feast, Hogwarts hadn't changed and Merlin was glad to be back. Mumblings about class and plans for Quidditch tryouts had started at the Ravenclaw table when Dumbledore got to his feet for his post feast speech.

"Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices," he started. "Mr. Filch the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees and Ever Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office if anybody would like to check it."

Absolutely no one was going to check the list, or give up their forbidden items. Dumbledore must have known that, because the corner of his mouth twitched into a grin before he continued.

"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out of bounds, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inner-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?!" Michael Corner demanded. He wasn't the only one. Outrage came from all four houses, and Dumbledore had to raise his voice to establish order.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy – but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have the great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

The doors of the Great Hall flew open with a loud bang, bringing attention to the man standing in the doorway. He was leaning on a long staff and the hood on his traveling cloak hid his face. Every other step the man made towards Dumbledore sounded in a loud, echoing clunk. He lowered his hood, revealing his face.

Merlin had been raised to not judge others, least of all, on their appearance. But looking at this man… Merlin could tell this man had seen horrible things. The man's hair was long, dark gray and grizzled. His face was scarred severely, and a chunk was missing from his nose. What stood out the most were his eyes. One was small and beady and, well, normal. The other was large, too large. It was electric blue and ceaselessly moved in all kinds of different directions.

The mysterious man shook Dumbledore's hand and took a seat at the teacher's table.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody," Dumbledore said brightly and began to applaud. With the exception of Hagrid, no one joined in.

"Well, that's unsettling," Anthony mumbled to Merlin, who nodded in agreement.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

Merlin was pleased to find that amongst all the excited faces, his was not the only one that was confused. Thankfully, before Merlin could ask anyone, Dumbledore gave a brief description of the tournament.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities – until the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

Mordred made eye contact with Merlin from across the room. _'I'm sorry, did he say death toll?'_

Dumbledore went on to explain that only those of age, seventeen, would be allowed to enter (which turned most of the students in the Great Hall mutinous) and sent everyone to bed.

Merlin, Mordred and Morgana met outside the Great Hall by the stairs.

"Death toll?" Mordred frowned. "Did someone think this all the way through?"

Morgana shrugged. "No risk, no reward. Besides, the three of us are too young to participate."

"So it's not our problem?" Merlin asked. 'You mean to tell me you're not at least a little concerned about this tournament where people have been killed?'

Morgana rolled her eyes. _'It's entertainment. And, I don't know…maybe we need a distraction. You and I both know things are going to get worse. Why not enjoy ourselves before that happens? Besides, Dumbledore isn't going to let anything bad happen.'_

Merlin sighed. He had no argument against that. "Fine, but that doesn't mean we can get lazy. And since I won't be bothered with Quidditch practice this year, my schedule looks open for other kinds of practice."

_'But Merlin, you can't be suggesting that we practice magic in the forest, are you?'_ Mordred asked sarcastically. _'The Forbidden Forest is…forbidden.'_

The three shared glances with each other, and burst out laughing.


	6. Chapter 6

Morgana shrugged off her robes as she took her seat in Divination. Despite the warm weather outside on this Monday afternoon, a fire was roaring in the fireplace, making it far too warm for Morgana's liking. That, combined with the burning incense and shut windows, Morgana was finding it hard to breathe.

"Good day," said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney. She had startled Potter, making him jump. "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas…most difficult…I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass…and perhaps sooner than you think."

"She is absolutely out of her mind," Daphne mumbled to Morgana.

But as Trelawney turned to address the rest of the class, Harry slowly turned his gaze to Morgana, who didn't break eye contact. They stared at each other for a long time. Hermione had said something to him, had told him about Morgana's vision; she could see it in his eyes.

_Good,_ Morgana thought. _Because Trelawney's not wrong._

* * *

 Merlin yawned for the fifth time and stretched, making Morgana roll her eyes. It might have been the middle of the night (which was when Astrology class had always been) and yes she was tired too, but Merlin should have taken a nap before class like everyone else.

He yawned again, this time stretching until he bumped Morgana's shoulder, changing the position of her telescope. Irritated, Morgana nudged him in the ribs.

' _Honestly Merlin,'_ she chided.

' _Sorry.'_ He rubbed his eyes sleepily. _'I was going over my notes from defense class.'_

Ah, Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Morgana had heard all kinds of things about the Auror turned teacher.

' _What do you think of Moody?' she asked._

' _I think he's absolutely brilliant,'_ Merlin replied.

' _Yeah?'_

' _Yeah.'_ Merlin nodded. _'You can tell he knows what he's talking about.'_

Morgana considered this. She'd had an uneasy feeling about the man since he burst in the Great Hall. A faint sense of dread filled her when she saw him in the halls or at mealtimes. And while Morgana trusted Merlin's judgment, she still wasn't completely sold on Professor Moody.

Thursday morning's class dragged on for entirely too long. Morgana usually enjoyed History of Magic, but it just wasn't holding her attention today. Her upcoming class with Moody kept her preoccupied. She just couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen.

Mercifully, the dismissal bell rang and Morgana let Daphne drag her to lunch.

"You need to eat," Daphne said, once she noticed Morgana hadn't touched her food.

"I'm not hungry," Morgana insisted.

"You eat to keep from being hungry," Daphne retorted.

Morgana rolled her eyes. "Mordred, will you please tell Daphne-"

"Sure," he swiftly cut her off and turned to Daphne. "If she wants to starve, let her."

In the end, Morgana nibbled at a pumpkin pasty to appease Daphne, who would not shut up about it. The bell rang and sent everyone back to their classes. Once again, Daphne led the way.

"Anxious Greengrass?" Morgana teased as they entered the classroom.

Daphne took a seat towards the back of the room and pulled out her textbook. "Just want to get this over with. Anthony said Moody was…intense."

They waited a short while in silence before they heard Moody's distinct footsteps coming down the corridor.

"You can put that away," he growled as he entered the room. "Those books," he clarified, "you won't be needing them." Moody took roll call, which was very strange, as his head was tilted down to read the register, but his magical eye swiveled around to stare at each student that answered.

"I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling dark creatures like boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas and werewolves, correct?"

After a few confirmatory murmurs, Moody continued. "You're behind - very behind- on dealing with curses," Moody said. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other."

Morgana felt a heaviness in her chest and it was becoming more difficult to breathe. It was as if the air had gotten thicker.

"So – straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you counter curses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better…

And Miss Brown, you need to put that away when I'm talking."

Sure enough, Lavender Brown was showing Parvati her complete horoscope under the desk. The Gryffindor blushed and shoved the parchment in her book bag.

_He can see through solid wood,_ Morgana realized. _Good to know._

"So…" Moody continued. "Do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands went up but Moody called on Ron Weasley.

"My dad told me about one," Ron said. "Is it called the Imperius Curse or something?"

"Ah yes," said Moody. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time." He stood to his feet, opened his desk and pulled out a jar containing three large spiders.

A sharp intake of breath made Morgana look at her friend from the corner of her eye. Daphne was sitting very stiffly with her eyes wide open. Her breathing was quick and shallow. Daphne passionately disliked spiders.

Knowing this, Morgana covered Daphne's hand with her own. "Slow down your breathing before you make yourself sick," she whispered.

Daphne nodded slightly and began to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth.

Moody held one spider in his hand and muttered, " _Imperio_."

The spider jumped from his hand and began doing stunts on Moody's desk. Most students were laughing, but Morgana couldn't find it in herself to be entertained.

"Think it's funny, do you?" Moody growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter immediately stopped.

"Total control. I could make it jump out of the window, down itself…" Moody paused, letting his words sink in. "Years back there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse."

_Lord Voldemort,_ Morgana thought. She knew several of the Dark Lord's followers claimed they had been under the curse's influence when their master disappeared. Whether that was true or not, Morgana wasn't certain.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody barked, making everyone jump. He then scooped the spider up and threw it back in the jar. "Anyone else know one? An illegal curse?"

To Morgana's surprise, Neville's hand slowly rose into the air. The Gryffindor was usually quiet in class and never volunteered for anything.

"Yes?" asked Moody, his magical eye rolling over to stare at Neville.

"There's one," Neville said in a small but distant voice. "The Cruciatus Curse."

Moody looked at Neville intently with both eyes. "Your name's Longbottom?"

Neville looked down at his desk and nodded nervously.

Without any further questions, Moody took another spider out of the jar. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea." He pointed his wand at the spider and mumbled, " _engorgio!_ "

The spider grew larger and Daphne groaned. "Is that really necessary?" she whispered.

" _Crucio!_ "

Immediately the spider's legs bent in upon its body. It rolled over and began to twitch horribly. Morgana began to hear a ringing noise in her ears that became louder and louder and louder –

"Stop it!" Hermione demanded shrilly. She was looking at Neville, whose knuckles were white from gripping the desk in desperation, a look of horror in his eyes.

Moody ended the curse and shrunk the spider back to normal size. "Pain. You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse…That one was popular too…Anyone know any others?"

Only one, slightly shaking, hand rose in the air.

Moody eyed Hermione, who looked as if she didn't even want to answer the question. "Yes?"

" _Avada Kedavra,_ " she whispered. Several people looked uneasily at her.

"Ah, yes. The last and worst. Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse." Moody reached into the jar to grab the last spider. It must have known its fate, as it frantically tried to escape Moody's grasp. He placed it on the desk, raised his wand and roared, " _Avada Kedavra!_ "

An eerie chill ran down Morgana's spine as a flash of blinding green light emitted from Moody's wand. The spider rolled over, unmistakably dead.

"Not nice," Moody said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no counter curse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Everyone looked at Harry Potter, who seemed to be staring into space.

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it – you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words and I doubt I'll get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

Now, if there's no counter curse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worse is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody roared, making everyone jump again.

The rest of class was spent quietly taking notes on the Unforgivable Curses and how to avoid them. As soon as class was dismissed, students found their voices and spoke of how amazing the lesson had been.

"Well, I was warned that Professor Moody was intense, but I wasn't expecting _that_." Daphne murmured as the descended the stairs.

Morgana nodded, only half listening. Her attention had fallen on Neville, who stood alone on the stairs, staring out the window. "Neville?" she said cautiously as they approached him. "You alright?"

Neville's back stiffened and he turned to look at her. "Oh hello," he greeted, his voice higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner. I'm starving, aren't you?"

_So, no, you're not alright._ Concerned, Morgana reached out to touch his arm.

"Oi! Leave him alone LeFay!"

Morgana spun around to find Ron Weasley glaring at her. Harry and Hermione stood at his side. Brow furrowed, Hermione approached Neville slowly.

"Neville?" she asked quietly. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine," he insisted, his voice still unusually high.

Morgana began to reach out to Neville again but was once more deterred by Ron.

"I said leave him alone!" Ron shouted.

"Problem?" Moody appeared at the top of the stairs, his voice much softer than the growl he'd had in class. "Miss LeFay?"

There was a familiar uneasiness in Morgana's stomach as Moody looked at her with both of his eyes. She quickly broke eye contact. "Not at all, Professor," she lied.

Moody gave her a subtle nod before fixing his gaze on the troubled Gryffindor. "It's alright, sonny. Why don't you come up to my office? Come on, we can have a cup of tea. I've got some books that might interest you…"

Neville climbed back up the stairs and allowed himself to be steered away. Morgana, not wanting to hear any more of Ron's mouth, quickly continued down the stairs, but not before hearing Hermione call the red head a prat.

"I think I like Granger," Daphne giggled.

"She's got a good head on her shoulders, yeah." Morgana agreed. "D'you know what class Anthony had?"

Daphne frowned in confusion. "Potions. Why?"

Morgana's concern for Neville hadn't gone away and if she couldn't talk to him, she would find someone that could. "He and Merlin have the same schedule."

"Oh."

They made their way down to the dungeons and searched just about every hall but couldn't find Merlin or Anthony. Determined, Morgana decided to try one more thing before giving up.

' _Merlin?'_

' _Whoa!'_ he replied, startled. _'Where are you?'_

Morgana frowned. _'In the dungeons. Where are you?'_

' _In the bathroom.'_

' _Oh,'_ Morgana covered her mouth to keep her from laughing out loud. _'Sorry.'_

Merlin left the bathroom and found Morgana leaning against the opposite wall, laughter in her eyes. _'I didn't break your concentration, did I?'_

He glared at her.

"Hello you," Anthony greeted Daphne.

"Hello back," she replied. "Walk me to the dorms?" Hand in hand, the couple left their friends standing in the hall without saying goodbye.

"They're disgusting," Morgana commented.

Snickering, Merlin asked. "You were looking for me?"

Morgana grew serious. "Yeah, Neville wasn't doing too great after our Defense class. Something about the Cruciatus Curse put him on edge. I tried to check on him, but Weasley was being himself."

Merlin frowned. "Do you happen to know where he is?"

"He was with Moody about ten minutes ago."

Merlin sighed. "I'll find him. Thanks Morgana."

* * *

 An hour later, Merlin found Neville outside sitting under a tree next to the Black Lake. He was completely engrossed in a book, so much so that he didn't hear Merlin approaching.

Merlin plopped down next to his friend and sighed. "You are a difficult man to find, d'you know that?"

Neville's mouth twisted into a small grin. "Did Morgana send you?"

"She may have mentioned you… and Moody's class," Merlin answered.

Neville licked his lips and closed his book. He stared out at the Black Lake for long time.

"Can I tell you something?" Neville said quietly.

Merlin nodded.

Neville looked thoughtfully out at the lake and took a deep, shaky breath. "M-my parents use to be Aurors. They, uh, were tortured by Death Eaters. Gran says they were protecting me." He swallowed thickly, his eyes glossing over with unshed tears.

Quite frankly, Merlin wasn't sure how he'd react if he saw the spell that drove his parents insane performed in front of him. He began to wonder if the damage could be reversed when he heard Neville sniffle.

"They were tortured for so long that they went mad…I don't even think they know who I am. Now they're in St. Mungo's," Neville's voice cracked as a tear rolled down his cheek. He wiped it away and cleared his throat. "I've never told anyone about them being…ya know."

Merlin frowned. "It's nothing to be ashamed of-"

Neville shook his head. "No no no, you get looks from people…the ones that know. They look at you with pity and disappointment." He sniffled. "I hate it."

Merlin's mind wandered back to the morning after the tournament, and how Neville had gotten quiet after the mention of his parents.

_Gaius must have known,_ Merlin figured.

"I've never told anyone," Neville confessed.

"Well if anyone does find out," Merlin promised, "it won't be from me."


	7. Chapter 7

_‘Merlin.’_

The distracted wizard tensed up at the mention of his name. Thankfully it was Morgana that woke him from his stupor and not Professor Flitwick, who was observing the progress of the class.

_‘Focus,’_ Morgana told him, nodding down at the feather they were supposed to be banishing.

Merlin straightened up in this seat, held up his wand…and completely forgot what spell he was supposed to use.

“Alright, Mr. Ambrose,” Flitwick came to stand in front of the two sorcerers. “Let’s see how you do.”

_‘Depulso,’_ Morgana supplied. _‘Sweeping motion.’_

_‘Right. Thanks.’_ Merlin cleared his throat. “ _Depulso.”_ The feather shot across the room, landing between Padma and Lisa, making the two girls jump in surprise.

Merlin blushed furiously.

“Well done, Mr. Ambrose,” Flitwick praised. “Now, bring it back.”

Merlin nodded. “Accio!” The feather flew back across the room and came to a stop on the table in front of Merlin.

“Well done!” Flitwick repeated. “Now you, Miss LeFay.”

Not only did Morgana execute a perfect Banishing Charm, but she summoned the feather back before it got halfway across the room.

“Very well done, Miss LeFay!” Flitwick exclaimed. “Very well done, indeed!”

_‘Show off,’_ Merlin scoffed.

“Thank you, Professor,” Morgana said sweetly.

Flitwick moved on to the next pair of students and Morgana nudged Merlin in the ribs. “What’s with you today?”

“What do you mean?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “We’ve been going over Banishing Charms for weeks, and suddenly you forget the spell?”

Merlin shrugged. “Dunno. Kind of excited about the other students coming.”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “You really think they’re that interesting?”

Merlin shrugged again. “Well, we don’t know what they’re like.”

“Mmmm…that’s not exactly true,” Morgana said slowly.

“Of course _you_ would know,” Merlin groaned. “You know everything.”

Morgana shook her head. “Narcissa took me to Beauxbaton when I was younger. I guess she was hoping I would want to go there if I saw it for myself.”

“I’m assuming that didn’t work out the way she planned?”

Morgana grinned. “They’re snobs.”

“You’re one to talk, Slytherin.”

“I’ll give you a pass just this once because we’re friends. But don’t let it happen again.”

Class was dismissed and Merlin followed Morgana into the hall. It was buzzing with a different kind of excitement. It seemed that Merlin wasn’t the only student excited for the arrival of their guests.

“They’re supposed to be cutting our next class short today,” Merlin said to Morgana.

“Oh good, Snape won’t be able to poison everybody,” Morgana replied.

Merlin frowned. “Wait, what?”

“Snape said he was going to make sure our antidotes worked by poisoning us,” Morgana explained. “Looks like he’ll only have time to poison half of us.”

“Can he do that?”

She shrugged. “Dunno, but the Gryffindors can go first.”

“Did you just volunteer for them to go first?” To her nod, Merlin chuckled. “You’re awful.”

“Yeah,” she called over her shoulder, as she headed towards the dungeons. “You like it, though.”

Merlin watched her go, shaking his head.

“Remember when you wanted me to tell you when you were being an idiot?” Anthony asked from behind Merlin.

Merlin whirled around, confused. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” Anthony sighed. “C’mon before you make us late to class.”

* * *

 

When the bell rang to dismiss classes early, everyone rushed to their dorms to drop off their things. Afterwards, the students filed into the entrance hall and were escorted by their Heads of Houses outside the castle.

_‘I see the Gryffindors are still alive,’_ Merlin commented when he caught sight of Neville and Dean Thomas.

_‘We ran out of time,’_ Morgana answered, seemingly disappointed.

Merlin kept his amusement to himself. _‘So how are they supposed to arrive?”_

_‘Ostentatiously, I’m sure,’_ she replied.

A moment later, a ridiculously large carriage pulled by horses the size of elephants, flew in from over the Forbidden Forest and landed with a loud thud in front of the crowd of students. The door to the carriage opened and out stepped a very large woman.

_‘Holy cricket!’_ Mordred exclaimed. _‘She’s a big as Hagrid!’_

Mordred wasn’t the only on to comment on the woman’s size. After a collective gasp from the Hogwarts students, some began whispering.

“My dear Madame Maxime,” Dumbledore greeted. “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Dumbly-dorr.” Merlin’s mouth fell agape at how deep Madame Maxime’s voice was. “I ‘ope I find you well?”

_‘It’s not polite to stare, Merlin,’_ Morgana chastised.

Merlin snapped his mouth shut. _‘Is she a giant?’_

_‘There’ve been rumors,’_ Morgana answered. _‘But she’s always denied them.’_

_‘I don’t see how,’_ Mordred commented. _‘She’s huge.’_

Madame Maxime beckoned her students to follow her inside the school. The last person to step out of the carriage, however, was not a student. Her robes were a dark purple, very different from the powder blue of the Beauxbaton students. She extended a hand to Dumbledore, who gently took it in his own.

“And how are you Professor,” Dumbledore said, his tone much less jovial than how he greeted Madame Maxime.

“Blessed, Headmaster.” Merlin had heard that voice before. “As always.”

Dumbledore gently squeezed the woman’s fingers before releasing them. “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting you. What a lovely surprise.”

She lowered her hood, revealing a crown of blonde hair and a wicked grin.

Merlin’s eyebrows shot up. _‘What is Morgause doing here?’_ he asked Morgana.

_‘I was just about to ask you.’_

 “My apologies, Headmaster. It was a…last minute arrangement.” Morgause explained.

Ever the generous host, Dumbledore invited her to join the rest of the visitors from Beauxbaton inside the castle, leaving everyone else to wait for the other guests from Durmstrang.

Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait long. A magnificent ship slowly emerged from the Black Lake. Its skeletal look gave Merlin an impression of a resurrected shipwreck. After the splash of an anchor and the thud of a plank, people began to disembark from the ship.

“Dumbledore!” greeted a man wearing a silver fur coat. “How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?”

“Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff,” Dumbledore replied.

_‘He used to be a Death Eater,’_ Morgana informed Merlin and Mordred.

_‘And he’s not locked up like the rest of them because why?’_ Mordred asked.

_‘I heard Mr. Malfoy say he betrayed the Dark Lord and gave the Ministry the names of other Death Eaters.’_ Morgana explained _. ‘He’d been out of country ever since.’_

“How good is it to be here,” Karkaroff commented, look up at the castle. “Viktor, come along, into the warmth. You don’t mind, Dumbledore. Viktor has a slight head cold.”

_‘Wait,’_ Merlin started. _‘Is that-?‘_

And indeed it was. With a prominent, and slightly red, curved nosed and thick eyebrow, Viktor Krum followed Dumbledore through the crowd of staring students into the castle.

_‘Well, it’s like Morgana said,’_ Mordred commented. _‘Ostentatiously.’_

Merlin pursed his lips together to keep from laughing.

* * *

 

“Good evening, ladies and gentleman, ghosts and – more particularly- guests.” Dumbledore beamed at everyone seated in the Great Hall. “I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable. The tournament will be officially be opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you to eat, drink and make yourself at home.”

As usual, the empty plates in front of everyone filled with food. The house elves must have been out to impress, as there were several foreign dishes. Between Merlin, Anthony, Michael and Terry, the fish stew was completely gone.

“Is all zee bouillabaisse gone?” asked an annoyed Beauxbaton girl.

Terry dropped his slice of bread and openly stared at her.

“Uh yeah…sorry.” Anthony apologized. “They may still have some over there,” he offered, nodding to the Gryffindor table.

Clearly irritated, she huffed and headed over to the Gryffindors.

“Close your mouth, Terry,” Padma instructed. “You look like you’re trying to catch flies.”

Snapped out of his daze, Terry whispered conspiratorially, “she’s a veela.”

“What’s a veela?” Merlin asked.

“Very, very pretty,” Michael answered, watching the girl carry a large bowl back to their table.

“There’s plenty of pretty girls at Hogwarts and you’ve never accused them of being a veela,” argued Anthony.

Terry shook his head. “Not like her.”

There were girls even more attractive than her at Hogwarts but when Merlin opened his mouth to make that argument, Dumbledore stood to his feet.

“The moment has come,” said Dumbledore, smiling at everyone. “The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year.”

_‘Did he just say casket?’_ Mordred queried. _‘That is what he said, right?’_

_‘Shush,’_ Morgana chided.

“First, let me introduce, for those that do not know, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of Department of International Cooperation.”

There was a polite amount of applause for the man who accused Merlin and his friends of conjuring the Dark Mark. Merlin glanced at Mordred and Morgana; the latter had her hands neatly folded in her lap.

“Also, Ludo Bagman, Head of Department of Magical Games and Sports.” Dumbledore carried on about the hard work everyone put in to make the tournament possible, and announced the tournaments judges. “The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch.”

The casket was a large, old looking wooden chest encrusted with jewels.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways…their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was so quiet that it seemed as if no one was breathing. "As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped the top of the casket three times. The lid creaked slowly open and Dumbledore reached inside to pull out a large, roughly carved wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full of dancing blue-white flames. Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.”

Mutinous murmurs spread throughout the Great Hall.

“Finally,” Dumbledore spoke up, “I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

* * *

 

_‘Morgana.’_

Frowning, the young sorceress’ eyes flew open. She had been awake for a while, enjoying the quiet of the early morning when someone called her name. Instead of responding, Morgana lay perfectly still, certain that if she waited long enough, whoever it was would call for her again.

_‘Morgana, I know you’re awake.’_

_‘Morgause?’_

_‘Good morning, sweetheart,’_ Morgause said kindly _. ‘Come, walk with me.’_

Frowning, Morgana checked the clock on her bedside table. _‘It’s not even 5 o’clock yet.’_

_‘Time is relative, my dear,’_ Morgause said offhandedly _. ‘Up you get.’_

Without another word, Morgana quietly got dressed and headed towards the main entryway of the castle. Professors McGonagall and Snape were making their way towards the Great Hall and eyed her curiously.

“Good morning, Professor McGonagall,” she greeted. “Good morning, Professor Snape.”

“You’re up awfully early, Miss LeFay,” Snape commented. “Trouble sleeping again?”

Morgana smiled politely and shook her head. “No, sir. Just fancied a walk before an early breakfast.”

“A walk?” McGonagall questioned. “It’s not even light outside-”

“She won’t be alone, Minerva.” Morgause came casually strolling up to the trio, her long white robes trailing behind her. _‘Besides, you and I both know she’s capable of taking care of herself.’_ She turned to Snape and smiled. “Good morning, Severus.”

He pursed his lips slightly. “Morning,” he replied curtly.

McGonagall gave Morgause a hard look before turning to Morgana. “Enjoy your walk, Miss LeFay.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Morgana said, several questions running through her mind. As she followed Morgause out the castle, she asked, “Is Professor McGonagall-?”

“One of us?” Morgause finished the question for her. To Morgana’s nod, she replied, “Yes. A very powerful sorceress, and yet she wastes her talents in Dumbledore’s shadow.”

“What makes you say that?” Morgana queried.

Morgause grinned dangerously. “Perhaps that’s a topic we can discuss at another time. You don’t really think I got you out of bed to discuss magical politics, do you?”

Frowning, Morgana stopped walking. “Why _did_ you get me out of bed?”

“I wanted to see the Forbidden Forest,” Morgause responded, as if it was obvious. “Show me where you practice your magic.”

Even though they had been back at school for months, it had been over a year since Morgana had been in the forest. Not much had changed. She found the clearing that she and her friends had taken a liking to with no trouble.

“I see,” Morgause murmured as she looked around. “There’s so much magic here.” She brushed her fingertips across the boulder. “Who found this place?”

“Merlin,” Morgana replied.

Morgause hummed to herself before closing her eyes and holding out her hand, palm side down. Morgana felt the ground gently shake as it released golden lights that appeared around the edges of the clearing. There was uneasiness in her stomach as the shaking stopped.

“What-?”

“No one will be able to see or hear us,” Morgause explained, cutting her off. “Have you looked into Occlumency?”

Morgana nodded. “Yes.”

“Have you told your friends about it?”

“Mordred was there when I received your letter,” Morgana explained.

Morgause raised an eyebrow. “And Merlin?”

Morgana shook her head slowly.

“Good.” Morgause took out her wand and sat on the boulder. “I wish to teach you as much of it as I can when we have time. I know you have other obligations and I don’t wish to interrupt that. As such, this time and place is when and where we will meet.”

“Everyday?” Morgana asked.

Morgause shook her head and adjusted her robes around her “No, sweetheart. Only on Sundays. Is that acceptable?”

Morgana nodded.

Morgause smiled. “Good. Now, let’s see what you’ve learned so far.” She raised her wand and shouted, “ _Legilimens!”_

* * *

 

After what felt like hours later, the two sorceresses emerged from the Forbidden Forest, tired and a little hungry.

“How are you feeling?” Morgause asked.

Morgana shook her head. “Fine, I suppose.”

“Good.” Morgause put a hand on Morgana’s shoulder. “You did well. Keep practicing your meditations, it will help.”

They came to a stop at the castle doors. “Go in and eat. I’ll see you at the feast tonight.” Morgause instructed.

“You’re not coming in?”

“No need.” Morgause brushed some hair away from Morgana’s face. “Off you get.”

Morgana headed into the Great Hall and was grateful that it was still early. Only a few teachers and students were up and eating. She sat alone at the Slytherin table and fixed her plate. She was just spreading jam on her toast when a group of Slytherin boys walked in. In front of the crowd was Cassius Warrington, one of the Chasers on the Quidditch team.

He swaggered up to the goblet and deposited his name, his friends behind him cheering as if he’d already won.

One of Agravaine’s sayings came to mind. “Don’t celebrate a deal until the ink has dried,” he would say. Morgana smirked at her guardian’s pessimism.

“Good morning, Morgana.”

Wide eyed, Morgana looked up to find Cassius grinning down at her, his friends still standing behind him. “Morning, Cassius,” she replied.

His grin widened and he headed further down the table before sitting down, leaving Morgana confused. “The hell was that about?” she asked no one in particular.

“Don’t be stupid,” Daphne answered as she sat next to her friend. “He likes you, just like all the boys in Slytherin.”

“No they don’t.”

“You’re right,” Daphne agreed. “All the boys but Mordred like you.”

“Wait, what’d I do now?” Mordred asked sleepily. He was closely followed by Astoria, who seemed to have shoved him along all the way from the dungeons.

“Morgana doesn’t believe all the boys like her,” Daphne said, passing her sister a plate of sausage.

Mordred made a face. “That’s not true. I don’t like her.”

Astoria gave an undignified snort.

“Sleep well?” Morgana asked Mordred, trying to change the subject.

Mordred shook his head. “Not really. Mitch and Peter wouldn’t shut up about what they would do if they won the tournament.” He yawned. “Didn’t fall asleep until this morning.”

“You poor thing,” Astoria commented dryly.

Mordred ignored her. “Where were you this morning?”

“Woke up early and went for a walk,” Morgana replied. It wasn’t a lie…technically.

“Has anyone interesting put their name in the cup?” Daphne asked.

Morgana shrugged. “I’ve only seen Warrington. I heard Diggory was going to put his name in last night.”

“I bet a few people put their names in last night,” Daphne said. “I know I would.”

Mordred nodded in agreement, but Morgana wasn’t sure she would want to put her name in the cup at all.

* * *

 

The Halloween feast was taking far longer than usual and Morgana wasn’t the only one that just wanted it to end. Though, everyone else was excited to find out who the champions would be, Morgana had a pain in the back of her head that had been growing since lunch. Even Draco noticed a change in her, and wisely steered clear of her.

“Can we get this over with,” she grumbled, gritting her teeth.

As if her request was being granted, the plates emptied and Dumbledore stood to his feet. "Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" -he indicated the door behind the staff table - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand extinguished all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins. The Goblet of Fire was now the main source of light in the Great Hall. The flames inside the goblet suddenly turned red and sparks began to fly from it. Finally, it spit out a charred bit of parchment and Dumbledore caught it in his hand.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read in a clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

The Great Hall roared with applause as Viktor Krum stood to his feet and headed through the door behind the staff table.

The Goblet of Fire’s flame turned red once more and spat out another piece of parchment. Again, Dumbledore caught it in his hand and read the name by the glow of the goblet. "The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

The Great Hall applauded the new champion but not loud enough to drown out the disappointed sobs of the other Beauxbaton students. Madame Maxime and Morgause seemed unsurprised as they beamed at Fleur.

Again, the Goblet of Fire turned red, sending out the name of the final champion. "The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

Every single Hufflepuff jumped to their feet, screaming and stomping their feet in celebration as Diggory joined the other champions.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real --"

The fire turned red again, and the entire hall grew quiet. As Dumbledore caught the parchment, Morgana got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and her gaze was drawn over to the Gryffindor table.

Dumbledore held the scrap of parchment out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. At last, he cleared his throat and read out - "Harry Potter."

There was no applause, no cause for celebration and Harry Potter did not look pleased. Instead, he looked just as shocked as everyone else. A buzz of anger spread through the Great Hall as realization dawned on the rest of the students.

“Potter _cheated_ ,” Morgana heard someone nearby whisper.

“Go on, Harry,” Hermione urged quietly, finally shoving Harry to his feet. “Go.”

Hesitantly Harry made his way to Dumbledore. His pace was slow and unsure. Slytherin’s hissed at him as he passed by, but that didn’t stop Harry from looking at Morgana. There was nothing she could say, not right now. So she lifted her chin, encouraging him to do the same. He did as instructed, and quickened his pace. Once Harry left the Great Hall, Dumbledore ended the festivities and sent everyone to bed.

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

"I can't believe it."

"Potter cheated."

"They can't let him compete. He's too young!"

"They'll let him compete. Just watch. He's Dumbledore's pet, remember?"

"Potter! _Cheated_!"

After Professor Dumbledore dismissed everyone, Morgana's fellow Slytherin's met in the common room to discuss the evening's events. While everyone complained, Morgana had her back to them, staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace. She silently tried to process what was going on. Harry Potter's name had no business in that Cup and his reaction had made it very clear that he had no idea how it had gotten there. He was just as shocked as everyone else.

Someone else had put Potter's name in the Cup, that was clear. But why?

The noise level rose, bringing Morgana's attention back to the crowd in the common room. She turned halfway around.

"I say we sit the tournament out," suggested a fifth year named Anastasia. A few students mumbled in agreement.

Morgana rolled her eyes and scoffed loudly. _That solves nothing._

"Got something to say, LeFay?" Anastasia challenged.

Morgana turned to fully face the crowd and wore a face of indifference. "Yes. That's the dumbest thing I've heard all evening."

A few Slytherin's laughed, angering Anastasia. "So you're rooting for Potter, then?"

"Were we not at the same feast?" Morgana asked sarcastically. "Cedric Diggory was named as Hogwart's champion. To sit out the tournament would be an insult to him and the entire school."

"She's right," Warrington spoke up. "Dumbledore did name Diggory as Hogwarts Champion. Potter's not champion of anything."

A knock at the common room door halted any further discussion. A first year opened it to reveal three Hufflepuffs.

"Hey," greeted the Hufflepuff in front. "We're throwing a part in the common room for Cedric. Thought you'd like to come."

Morgana bit back her smirk. There was no resisting a Hufflepuff party; they were notorious for having the best ones.

The ire surrounding Harry Potter forgotten, the common room slowly emptied out as the Slytherin's made their way to the party. Morgana stayed behind, waving Daphne and Mordred on. She noticed Warrington hadn't moved from his spot on one of the couches. When almost everyone was gone he stood to his feet and approached her.

"Are you trying to gain my favor?" Morgana asked bluntly.

Warrington grinned guiltily. "Why? Is it working?"

Morgana smiled. "No." She made her way past him and headed towards the dormitories.

"Not going to the party?" he called after her.

"No," she sighed. "I've got an early morning."

"But…tomorrow is Sunday."

"I know," she groaned. "Goodnight."

* * *

Morgana knew something was different the moment she stepped foot in the Forbidden Forest. There was a false sense of calm and quiet that she was not use to. She quickly carried on to her usual clearing. A figure was sitting on the boulder; the source of this uneasy quiet.

' _Morgause?'_

Morgause threw the hood of her robes off, revealing her grin. "When I said Sunday mornings, I didn't mean _this_ Sunday morning."

Morgana fully entered the clearing and bypassed all pleasantries. "What happened last night?"

"What ever do you mean?" Morgause asked, tilting her head to the side.

"The ceremony," Morgana clarified.

Morgause broke eye contact. "I believe you and I saw the same thing."

Morgana grit her teeth. "Please don't make this difficult, Morgause."

"They're going to allow the boy to compete," Morgause sighed. "But you knew that already."

"It's not safe-"

"Do you think Dumbledore doesn't know that?" Morgause cut her off, eyeing the young sorceress critically.

Morgana shook her head. "But the Dark Lord-"

"-is returning." Morgause finished. "And if these are the events that must take place in order for him to be vanquished, then so be it."

That wasn't what Morgana wanted to hear.

"You're a Seer, sweetheart," Morgause said softly. "You foresaw his return. It is inevitable."

"That doesn't mean Potter's life should be casually put in danger." Morgana argued.

Morgause smiled mischievously. "Do you fancy the boy? You do seem to be… _drawn_ to dark hair and light eyes. But both Merlin and Mordred have blue eyes, don't they?"

Morgana adopted a straight, stoic expression. "I thought you weren't going to make this difficult."

Morgause's expression softened and she took a deep breath before admitting, "The Dark Lord took someone from me. Someone I loved very much." She paused to lick her lips and added, "so if this is the path the Goddess has chosen in order for the Boy to defeat the Dark Lord, then so be it."

Morgana understood Morgause's logic. That didn't mean she had to like it. "The end justifies the means, then?"

"Yes." Morgause answered firmly. "The sooner you accept that, the sooner you'll see your abilities as a gift and not a curse."

Morgana frowned. A reply was on the tip of her tongue when Morgause continued. "The sun is rising. You should go eat; you'll need your strength."

It was clear that this was the end of their conversation, and that Morgana had been dismissed from her own sanctuary.

* * *

In an interesting turn of events, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter weren't talking anymore. And an outrageously fabricated story from a woman named Rita Skeeter hadn't helped the tension surrounding Harry being selected as a champion at all. It had isolated the Gryffindor even more. If he wasn't with Hermione in the library, he was playing third wheel with Merlin and Neville.

Merlin didn't mind Harry tagging along. In fact, he found their talks about Quidditch to be quite enjoyable. But as Merlin met up with Neville and descended the stairs, he was glad to have his friend to himself on this trip to Hogsmeade.

At the bottom of the stairs, just outside the Great Hall, was a crowd of adults. Merlin recognized Karkaroff, Madam Maxime and Morgause in the crowd. They were led by Dumbledore, who was giving the crowd a tour.

Gaius was there as well, standing next to-

' _Dad?'_

Balinor Ambrose stood towards the back of the crowd, trying desperately hard to look interested in what the headmaster was saying, and failing miserably.

' _Morning son.'_ Balinor replied.

' _Uh, what are you doing here?'_ Merlin asked.

' _Just taking the complimentary tour…like I don't know my way around already,'_ he added sarcastically, and waved politely back to Neville. _'Off to Hogsmeade?'_

Merlin nodded.

' _Meet me in the forest when you get back.'_

' _Okay…where?'_

Balinor grinned. _'You'll know when you find it.'_

* * *

Merlin usually enjoyed Hogsmeade just as much as anyone else, but his curiosity regarding his father made him end his trip early. Alone, Merlin traversed the familiar path to his favorite place in the forest. The mid-November air was cold and crisp, making the leaves under his feet crunch loudly.

"Not exactly a light step are you, little Ambrose?"

Merlin spun around at the sound of the familiar voice. Gwaine sat in a tree, grinning from ear to ear. "What are you doing up there?" Merlin asked.

Gwaine leapt down from his perch and slid his hands in his pockets. "Waiting for you. Come on." They walked through the forest at a brisk pace. The deeper they traveled into the forest, the warmer it got.

"Uh, Gwaine?" Merlin started.

"Almost there," Gwaine promised.

There was shouting in the distance, along with a loud, screeching roar that shook the ground and made Merlin's teeth hurt at the same time. "What was that?"

"That's just Azra," Gwaine answered nonchalantly. "She sounds annoyed but what else is new?"

They quickened their pace until they came to the center of a camp. Dragon keepers were everywhere. Some sat casually on fallen logs chatting to each other. Others were shouting and pointing their wands at the four cages on the far side of the camp. Each cage was occupied by a different dragon. And each dragon was giving their assigned dragon keepers a hard time.

Merlin couldn't help but chuckle as the dragons sent flames after the keepers. It was clear the dragons were toying with their guardians.

"Oye!" Gwaine shouted at one the of the dragon keepers. "Where's Ambrose?"

"Dunno!" they shouted back. "But he better hurry back from wherever he is. This one's already burnt two of the new blokes," he nodded towards the large black dragon.

The green smooth-scaled dragon threw its head back and released a loud, melodious roar. It was not as powerful as the first roar, but it still made the ground shake.

"That's enough out of you lot."

The roaring stopped and for a moment everything stood still. Balinor had arrived and he looked rather annoyed with all the roaring. He came to a stop beside Merlin and grinned, breaking the spell of stillness in the camp.

"Enjoy Hogsmeade?" Balinor asked.

Merlin nodded. "It was alright."

"Indeed." To Gwaine, Balinor said, "Let's let them out."

From the face Gwaine made, he did not think that was a good idea, but he knew better than to question the Dragonlord.

"Open the gates boys!" Gwaine shouted at the dragon keepers. "Nice and steady."

The dragon keepers did as commanded, and opened the gates with their wands. Balinor raised his own wand and released the shackles from around each dragon's feet. Now without any restraints, the black dragon left its cage and stood on its hind legs, stretching their wings. Merlin guessed this dragon had to be at least forty feet long, not counting the tail.

' _Azra,'_ Balinor chided. _'We're not giving anyone a hard time, are we?'_

Azra gracefully landed on their front legs. _'When I agreed to this, I did not think that you would keep me in a cage!'_

' _Well I can't risk you picking off students and being seen, can I?'_ Balinor retorted.

Azra sneered but otherwise stayed silent.

' _This is Azra,'_ Balinor said to Merlin _. 'She's a Hungarian Horntail. One of the most vicious breeds of dragon. This,'_ he motioned to the blue dragon, _'is Tahldur. He's a Swedish Short-Snout. Reshe is a Chinese Fireball and Volek is a Welsh Green.'_

Tahldur and Reshe bowed politely as they were being introduced. Volek and Azra did not.

' _So, this is your heir, Balinor,'_ Volek moved forward to get a good look at Merlin. The dragon eyed Merlin from his head to his feet and back up again. _'He has your ears.'_

Reshe smiled, revealing her sharp teeth.

' _Tell me, Drog,'_ Tahldur spoke. _'When do we return home?'_

' _The First Task is in three days,'_ Balinor answered. _'We will leave for home the same night.'_

Reshe stretched her wings. ' _Good. I grow weary of my cage.'_

Balinor sighed. _'I know. That is why I'm going to allow the four of you to do as you please, as long as you're back before midnight.'_

Azra eyed Balinor. _'Anything we please?'_

' _No people. No pets,'_ Balinor clarified. _'And make sure you're not seen. Now, off with you.'_

Without any more prompting, the four dragons took flight.

Merlin watched them in awe until they were out of sight. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the Quidditch World Cup, would it?"

"Mm hm. Tickets in exchange for my cooperation," Balinor confirmed.

"That's brilliant," Merlin praised.

"Of course it is," Balinor agreed. "It was your mother's idea."

"Good ole mum," Merlin grinned. "So dragons are the first task?"

Balinor gave a nod and started walking towards the camp. "The champions will have to get past them in order to get a clue."

"What kind of clue?" Merlin inquired.

"A cleverly disguised clue." Balinor stopped at the opening to the largest tent. "Want to see?"

Merlin nodded and Balinor threw back the flap of the tent, inviting his son inside. Like the one they used at the World Cup, the tent was bigger on the inside. In the very center of the tent was a large chest. Using his magic, Balinor opened the chest to reveal five eggs.

Two were a silverfish blue, two were green with golden flecks and the last was red with scales.

"Wow," Merlin whispered. "There're real dragons in these?"

"Yes," Balinor confirmed. "The egg with the clue in it will be golden. Each champion will have their own dragon to get past in order to grab the golden egg that will assist them in the Second Task. Easy."

"Easy for you," Merlin insisted. "Or a seventh year."

Balinor sighed. "Yes, they Boy Who Lived can't seem to catch a break. There was a Gathering after that whole fiasco."

Curious, Merlin asked, "How'd that go?"

Balinor shrugged. "About as well as you'd think. Some thought Dumbledore should cancel the tournament. Others thought the boy should be given a chance to prove himself."

"It should be cancelled," Merlin said firmly. "Nothing against Harry, I mean he's not a bad wizard, but he's not ready to compete."

"Then he'd better get ready," Balinor replied. "Anyway, that is not up to us to decide."

Merlin fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Right. Dumbledore."

Balinor nodded. "He _has_ been tasked with protecting the boy."

"And he's been doing such an _amazing_ job so far."

Balinor laughed at his son. "You sound so much like your mother."

Merlin smirked. "Well I had to get my good sense from somewhere."

"Yes, yes you did," Balinor grinned. "But it's as I said before, he's not our responsibility. All we can do is hope for his success and help whenever possible." Balinor let himself grin mischievously. "And that is one of the reasons I've invited Hargid to come see the dragons."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Professor Hagrid? But, he'd tell Harry about them, wouldn't he?"

"Maybe."

"But…that's cheating," Merlin said.

"Yes it is."

Merlin frowned. "But, that's unfair."

"Unfairness is a direct consequence of cheating, yes."

"DAD!"

Balinor laughed. "Cheating has been part of the tournament since its creation. Don't worry about it, son."

"Fine," Merlin pouted. He carefully closed the chest and turned to his father. "I can't tell anyone about this, can I?"

Balinor smiled. "No."

Merlin sighed. "What was the point of showing me then?"

"Torture."

"You're a great father."

"I do what I can."


	9. Chapter 9

Despite all odds, Merlin managed to remain quiet about the First Task. He had even turned it into a game. The more his friends talked about it, the more he would lead them to make wrong assumptions.

"Well you know, Hagrid's been growing those Blast-Ended Skrewts," Merlin would say. "Why would Dumbledore allow it if they weren't going to use them?"

Of course, Merlin wasn't able to do this with Morgana. Somehow, she already knew about the dragons. In silent agreement, they decided not to tell Mordred, who constantly reminded them how awful they were.

' _I thought we were friends,'_ he whined, as they headed for the Forest with their classmates.  _'Friends don't treat friends like this.'_

Neither Merlin nor Morgana replied as they carried on walking. Where the Dragon Keeper camp once was now stood a large tent. Passed the tent stood a stadium. Merlin led the way through the crowd to find Anthony and Daphne.

"Saved you a seat," Anthony greeted, patting the seat next to him.

"Sorry to separate you three," Daphne added, as Morgana sat next to her dorm mate.

Mordred scoffed. "Well we all can't sit on Anthony's lap, can we Daphne?"

Anthony blushed furiously as Morgana slowly pulled Daphne away from him and closer to her.

Soon enough, the stands began to fill up and Merlin found himself sitting between Anthony and Neville, the latter of which was accompanied by Hermione and Ron. After taking a closer look at the Gryffindor witch, Merlin thought she might be sick.

"Alright there, Hermione?" he asked.

Hermione gave him a brave smile. "Just…concerned for Harry."

"He'll be fine," Merlin assured her.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," a man dressed in Quidditch robes was standing with a wand to his neck. "WELCOME TO THE FIRST TASK OF THIS YEAR'S TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT!"

The crowd cheered enthusiastically. "TODAY WE WILL TEST THE DARING OF OUR CHAMPIONS!"

A loud roar punctuated the statement as Tahldur entered the enclosure. Menacingly, he roared and eyed the crowd as he took his place guarding the dragon nest."

Several members of the crowd exclaimed in fright. Neville nudged Merlin in the ribs.

"Did you know about this?"

Merlin smiled innocently.

The crowd cheered again as Cedric stepped into the stadium. He looked an odd color of yellow and green.

Tahldur's gave narrowed at the sight Cedric. Without further ado, Tahldur spat fire at Cedric. Someone in the stands screamed bloody murder as Cedric dodged the flames.

"Ooooh, narrow miss there, very narrow," commented the announcer.

Quickly, Cedric configured a boulder into a dog. Once the dog caught sight of the dragon, it took off running. With new movement, Tahldur was distracted and chased after the dog. Seeing an opening, Cedric dashed towards the nest.

He was almost there, when Tahldur decided the Hufflepuff was more interesting than the Labrador. Again, Tahldur spat fire at Cedric and, while the Seeker managed to hide behind a boulder at the last minute, some of his robes caught on fire.

"Clever move – pity it didn't work!" the commentator exclaimed.

Tahldur roared in, what sounded to Merlin like, victory. His celebration was cut short when he detected movement on the other side of the enclosure. The dog was barking at the people in the stands and scratching at the walls in an effort to escape.

With the Swedish Short-Snout once again distracted, Cedric snuck around Tahldur and snatched up the golden egg.

The crowd erupted into a deafening roar. Unnoticed by many, a man in black robes entered the enclosure. His hood was up but Merlin could tell by the way he walked that it was Gwaine. He simply walked up the Tahldur and bowed his head. The dragon walked towards the cages with no further prompting as the judges gave Cedric his score. With a wave of his wand, Gwaine transfigured the terrified dog back into a boulder and left the arena.

Fleur Delacour was next, but her performance wasn't as entertaining as Cedric's. Within the first few minutes, Fleur managed to put Volek to sleep. She was then tasked with finding a way to extract the egg without waking the dragon. The only real danger for Fleur was Volek's snore, which briefly caught her robes on fire.

Krum was next. The cheers he received as he entered the arena made it seem as if he'd already retrieved the golden egg. Without slowing his pace, Viktor walked straight toward the Chinese Fireball.

Reshe snarled at his audacity.

"Very daring!" yelled the announcer.

Krum raised his wand, leaving Reshe roaring in frustration. Angrily, Reshe spat fire in Krum's direction, but she missed. She missed horribly.

Frowning, Merlin leaned forward in his seat. Something was wrong.

Reshe flailed about, spitting fire in every direction. Krum easily dodged her attacks.

' _She's blind,'_ Morgana noticed.  _'He's blinded her.'_

While Reshe couldn't see, she could hear and smell just fine. Unfortunately she was always a second too late to catch Krum. Like a predator, he circled in on the nest, closer and closer.

Enraged at her handicap, Reshe stomped her feet. Merlin's heart sank into his stomach as Reshe's claws came down hard in the center of the nest. She froze, so much so that she looked like a statue.

Krum seized his opportunity and snatched the golden egg right from under Reshe's nose. The crowd erupted into thunderous applause, but all Merlin could hear was Reshe's cry of sorrow.

In her blind rage, she had crushed two of the five eggs.

Her woeful cries continued as the judges gave Viktor his score. Gwaine entered the arena again. He managed to give Reshe her sight back but she was inconsolable.

A few boys sniggered behind Merlin. "Stupid dragon."

"You can say that from all the way up here," Merlin challenged them. "Why don't you go down there and say it to her face?"

The look of terror on their faces satisfied Merlin enough to turn back around.

Reshe's mourning lasted long enough to warrant Balinor's presence. Even though Balinor also had his hood up, Merlin could tell from his body language that his father was angry, but when he approached the saddened dragon, his demeanor softened. Gently, Balinor reached out to her and he ran a hand down her snout. After a few words, Reshe followed Balinor out of the arena, her head hanging low.

"Poor thing," Daphne said sincerely.

A loud, earth shaking roar ended all conversations. The crowd was completely silent when Azra slowly made her way into the arena. If Merlin thought she looked viscous before, she looked absolutely murderous right now.

"Harry has to go up against THAT!?" Hermione exclaimed.

Annoyed, Merlin turned to her. "Her name is-"

Azra roared again and it did not take a Dragonlord to interpret what she meant. It was very clear Azra was warning everyone to stay away. She protectively wrapped her body around the nest and roared again, just to reiterate.

"Well, that's that." Anthony said quietly. "We're about to watch Potter die."

Harry entered the arena then, looking very small. He raised his wand and shouted a spell, but Azra did not flinch or take her eyes off of him.

"This is no staring contest!" the commentator proclaimed when neither occupant of the arena moved.

"What is he doing?" Neville asked.

"Just wait," Hermione answered.

A second later, a broomstick flew in from the woods and stopped at Harry's side. It was his Firebolt.

"Poor girl," Merlin said with a smile. "She doesn't stand a chance."

* * *

It had seemed that Potter's brush with death had returned the school back to normal. Those gaudy 'POTTER SUCKS' buttons had (mostly) disappeared. Weasley and Potter had reconciled and it seemed as though it was going to be a normal school year after all.

Unfortunately, that only lasted about a week. The Yule Ball had been formally announced on a Thursday evening and by Friday morning half the school had lost its mind all over again.

Several people had approached Morgana to ask her to the ball. She had no idea she had so many admirers. Some of the boys that had asked her to the Ball were expected, like Draco and Cassius. What Morgana was not expecting was Bethany Hamilton. The sixth year Hufflepuff was as intelligent as she was beautiful, if rumors were to be believed. She had been invited to the Ball by many as well, and had turned every last invite down.

Morgana found out why when Bethany politely pulled her aside one morning on the way to classes.

"Are you going to the Ball with anyone?" Bethany asked, nervously twirling her already curly ebony hair in her fingers.

Morgana used her training in Occlumency to keep her face neutral. "I am, actually."

"Oh," Bethany pouted for a moment and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. "Well of course you are. You're gorgeous," she observed, a flirty grin on her lips. "I'll see you there, yeah?"

"Yeah," Morgana nodded slowly. "Of course." She inwardly groaned at how awkward she felt.

Bethany's smile widened. "Later LeFay."

Daphne joined Morgana's side as Bethany sashayed off. "She asked you to the ball, didn't she?"

"Mm hm."

"And you said no, didn't you?"

"Mmhm."

Daphne smirked and slowly tilted her head, her eyes never leaving Bethany Hamilton. "What am I going to do with you…" she asked, her voice trailing off. "You know, if you keep telling people that you already have a date, you'll end up without a date."

Morgana mentally kicked herself. She had completely forgotten to tell Daphne. Bracing herself, Morgana replied, "Um, but I really do have a date.

If looks could kill, the LeFay bloodline would have ended. "Excuse me. What did you say?"

"Didn't I tell you?" Morgana asked with a grimace, knowing full well she hadn't.

Daphne's eyes narrowed. "If we weren't such good friends…you know what? Nevermind." She slapped Morgana's arm. "No more secrets, remember?"

"I forgot," Morgana insisted. "It's really not that serious."

Daphne crossed her arms. "Well if it's not that serious, tell me."

With an apologetic smile, Morgana pulled her friend's arms out of the defensive posture and proceeded to tell Daphne everything.

* * *

"Theodore Nott?!"

"Mmhm."

"But I thought you liked Zabini?"

"I  _did_ , but he was taking too long to ask me."

"So if he asked you tomorrow, would you go with him?"

Morgana desperately wished her dorm mates would shut up. At present, Morgana was resting her head in Daphne's lap. She was playing in Morgana's hair, haphazardly placing braids. The feeling of it had put Morgana in a relaxed state and her eyes were getting heavy. She would have fallen asleep ages ago if the other occupants of the room would keep it down.

"No," Tracy answered firmly. "Theo would be devastated."

"Poor Theo," Pansy said sarcastically. "Who are you going with, Millicent?"

Morgana felt Daphne shake in silent laughter and slapped her thigh. "Be still," she mumbled so only Daphne could hear.

"No one's going to ask me." Millicent's voice was unusually quiet. "Nobody likes me."

"Ask Goyle," Daphne blurted. "No one likes him either."

Tracy and Pansy burst out laughing.

"Shut up, Daphne," Millicent snapped.

"I'm just trying to help," Daphne defended.

Morgana sighed. "Just go alone and take someone else's date," she suggested.

"Is that what you plan on doing?" Pansy asked.

Lazily, Morgana opened one eye to look at Pansy. "No."

"Well I know you've been lying to everyone," Pansy said smugly. "Saying you have a date when you really don't."

Morgana raised an eyebrow before she rolled her eyes shut. "If you say so."

There was a moment's pause before Tracy quietly asked, "Who  _are_ you going to the Ball with, Morgana?"

"Not Draco. He's going with me," Pansy answered confidently, as if Draco was some kind of trophy. "And I heard Ambrose is going with Turpin."

Morgana's stomach did a flip and she frowned. Lisa had asked Merlin the day the Ball was announced and it still bothered her to hear it out loud.

"Morgana?" Tracy prompted.

"Who I'm going to the Ball with is absolutely no one's business but mine," Morgana said defensively.

Pansy scoffed. "Oh please." She cleared her throat and looked squarely at Daphne. "Who is she going to the Ball with?"

Daphne said nothing and continued to braid Morgana's hair. 

"Wait a minute." Pansy eyed Daphne suspiciously. "You don't know who she's going with, do you?"

With a roll of her eyes, Daphne looked up at Pansy. "Of course I do," she sniffed. "But why would I tell you and ruin Morgana's fun?"

Tracy laughed at Pansy's scowl and Daphne gave Morgana a wink before returning to her task.

* * *

"Um, Morgana?"

Sighing deeply, Morgana looked over the book she was reading to give Merlin the best death glare she could muster. He'd been walking on eggshells around her for days and she didn't know why. It was unbearably annoying. Then he wouldn't stop tapping his fingers on the library table, which made her snap at him. Now he was interrupting her studies, again.

_This had better be good,_  she thought. "Yes?"

"Um…well I thought maybe I could ask for a favor?" Merlin asked nervously.

"What?"

"Well, the Yule Ball is a dance," Merlin started. "But I don't…I mean I can…I just don't know how to-"

"Spit it out," she said through her teeth.

"I don't know how to dance."

Mordred, who had been a spectator, started giggling. "You can't dance? At all?"

"I can dance," Merlin said defensively. "Just not, ya know, ballroom dancing." He turned back to Morgana. "So, I thought, maybe you could teach me how to dance properly."

Unmoved, Morgana returned to her reading. "The heads of houses were supposed to be teaching everybody."

Merlin shook his head. "That was just the basics. I still don't know what I'm doing."

"That's unfortunate," she said quietly, turning the page of her book.

' _Mercy.'_

Morgana glanced at Mordred out the corner of her eye.

' _Mercy,'_ Mordred repeated.  _'It took him three days to ask you for help.'_

' _Three days?'_

Mordred raised an eyebrow at her.  _'Well you have been a royal arse to him lately.'_

Morgana pursed her lips and conceded _. 'Fine.'_ She got Merlin's attention and said, "Tomorrow, after classes, meet me in the music room. And I mean  _right_  after classes."

Merlin's face lit up with a smile. "Thank you."

She couldn't help but softly smile back. "You're welcome."

Suddenly cheerful, Merlin went back to studying…and tapping his fingers on the table. Slowly, Morgana reached across the table and pressed his hand down.

"Merlin," she warned softly.

He chuckled and slid his hand off the table and into his lap. "Sorry."

Morgana shook her head at him and went back to her book, unable to focus on the words on the page.


	10. Chapter 10

Merlin didn’t even know Hogwarts had a music room. Apparently, he was the only one who didn’t know. When he asked Anthony about it, he received an excited nod and very thorough directions.

Unfortunately, Merlin forgot half of the instructions given. Fortunately, it was the last half. He found himself on the proper floor but didn’t know where to go from there. He walked aimlessly about, hoping to find some sign of Morgana.

Merlin was about to give up when he heard the faint sounds of a piano. He stood perfectly still until he knew where the sound was coming from. Tiptoeing down the corridor, Merlin followed the music and was pleased to find Mordred sitting at the piano.

The young Slytherin’s fingers danced across the keys. His brow was furrowed in focus as he rocked with the melody. There wasn’t a scrap of paper in sight, telling Merlin that his friend knew this song by heart.

Merlin stopped in the door way when his eyes fell on Morgana. She was leaning back against the piano, her eyes closed. Her head swayed from side to side and every now and then the sunrays would shine on her in a way that made her look ethereal.

Merlin suddenly felt like an intruder. Mordred and Morgana were both in a world of their own and Merlin didn’t want to interrupt. So he continued to stay in the doorway, a quiet voyeur.

Finally, the song was over and the trance that Mordred and Morgana had been under was lifted. Mordred sat up straight and flexed his fingers while Morgana smiled and opened her eyes. Unsure of what to do, Merlin applauded loudly.

Without missing a beat, Mordred stood and bowed lowly to Merlin. “Thank you,” he said graciously before turning to Morgana and bowing again. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t know you could play the piano,” Merlin commented as he placed his book bag down.

“Mum’s sister taught me,” he explained as he sat back down at the piano.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “You mean your aunt?”

Mordred shook his head. “Mum’s sister. We’re not blood related, so she won’t let me call her ‘aunt’.” At Morgana’s frown, he quickly added, “I don’t mind. She lets me have brandy once everyone has gone to bed on Christmas.”

Merlin snorted. “What about you, Morgana? Any hidden talents?”

“I can See the future,” she said in monotone.

Merlin glared at her, making her smile.

 “I can also see that you have horrible posture,” she added.

“No, I don’t,” Merlin insisted.

Morgana circled him, giving him an appraising eye. “Yes you do.”

Merlin felt uneasy under her critical gaze, but he did ask for her help. _Should have expected something like this,_ he thought.

What he didn’t expect was a cold hand on his lower back. “Uhm, Morgana?”

Firmly holding her hand in place, Morgana pushed on Merlin’s chest, forcing him to stand up straight. “I don’t know what it is with tall people…just slouching about,” Morgana mumbled to herself.

“I do not-”

“Yes you do. Shush.” Morgana circled round to behind him and put both her hands on his shoulders. “When I do this, try and push your shoulder blades down your back.”

Slowly she rolled his shoulders back and Merlin did as instructed. It felt like he was going to fall backwards. Morgana returned to his front and lifted his chin. Afterwards, she took a step back and smiled.

“Much better,” she said, circling him again. “Almost perfect.”

“I feel like I’m going to fall,” Merlin admitted.

“You won’t,” Morgana assured him. “Move your feet hip width apart…a little more…perfect.” Morgana circled him again and Merlin was beginning to wonder what this had to do with dancing.

“Right then, let’s talk about positioning, yeah?” Morgana stood opposite him and pointed down at her feet. “My foot should always be between yours. So,” she took his hands in hers and began to guide him, “you’ll step this way…then forward and over, then back. Got it?”

Merlin shook his head, confused. Morgana gave a short nod and guided him through the steps a few more times before she started correcting him.

“You’re slouching again…don’t go too fast…look at me, not your feet…”

The last bit of instruction was hard to do. Merlin felt awkward staring at his best friend, especially since they were standing so close.

“Not bad Merlin,” Morgana praised as she shed her robes. “Now we’ll do arm positions.” She took his left hand and held it up. “Palms together,” she said taking his hand. Morgana stepped closer and Merlin caught her scent. “Now your other hand goes on my shoulder blade…”

 _Is that peppermint?_ Merlin wondered as he placed his hand on her back.

Morgana placed her hand on the hem of Merlin’s shirt. “Okay. We’ll go through the steps again.”

Merlin nodded, debating with himself on the difference between peppermint and spearmint.

* * *

 _Over and then…wait no. Under then over…no that’s not right._ Merlin huffed in frustration. For the life of him, he could not remember how to tie his tie. Giving up, he turned to Anthony, who was pulling on his shoes.

“I need your help mate,” Merlin said.

Anthony shook his head. “I’m supposed to be meeting Daphne downstairs in three minutes.”

“But I don’t know how to tie this,” Merlin explained, holding up his black tie.

“Come on then,” Anthony said headed towards the dorm door. “I’ll tie it when we get downstairs.”

Merlin had already arranged to meet Lisa in front of the Great Hall, so he hurriedly followed Anthony out of Ravenclaw tower and down the stairs. Thankfully, Merlin was not the only person who didn’t know how to tie a tie. Neville also seemed to be struggling.

“What on earth are you doing, man?” Anthony inquired. “Hang on Merlin.” He slapped the tie out of Neville’s hands and began to fix it. “Bunch of amateurs, I swear.” He straightened Neville collar and shook his head. “Alright, Melin. Your turn.”

Before Anthony could get a good grip on Merlin’s tie, his mouth fell open. “Good lord.”

Frowning, Merlin turned to see what had caught Anthony’s attention.

Daphne Greengrass came strutting from the dungeons wearing a long aqua colored gown. Her golden blonde hair was tied back and out of her face but flowed in curls down her back. She had a cheeky grin on her face and, after catching Anthony’s wide eyed gaze, Merlin understood why.

Accompanying her was, surprisingly, Mordred. He looked quite smart in his dark grey dress robes. He had accentuated his suit with a black handkerchief and bowtie. His hair usually hung over his eyes in curls but now it was slicked back, making him look older than he was.

Once the crowd scooted a bit more out of the way, Merlin could see that Morgana was on Mordred’s other arm.

Merlin was not, by any stretch of the imagination, blind. In fact, he had perfect vision. He also wasn’t stupid. Merlin was fully aware that his best friend was aesthetically pleasing…but as she walked towards him, Merlin couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that she was absolutely stunning.

Her dress was long, black and shimmering. Silver vines grew from the hem of her corset, wrapping themselves around her waist and chest. Her hair was pulled into a curly bun that kept her hair from brushing her bare shoulders and little white flowers were strategically placed throughout. Around her neck hung a three-stone drop pendant that matched her earrings.

 _‘You’ll catch flies like that,’_ Mordred said, highly amused.

Merlin cleared his throat and closed his mouth, not realizing that it had been hanging open.

“Hello you,” Daphne said, placing a hand on Anthony’s chest.

“Back at you,” Anthony replied, giving her a once over. “You’re gorgeous, darling.”

She beamed at him. “Don’t make me blush.”

Hand in hand, the two walked into the Great Hall, leaving their friends behind.

“What’s going on with the tie, Ambrose?” Morgana queried.

Merlin pointed after his friend. “Anthony was supposed to help me.”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “How do you not know how to tie a tie?”

Neville slowly raised his hand. “I don’t know how to do it either.”

“Shame.” Morgana grabbed Merlin’s tie and set to work. She smelled of peppermint again and Merlin smiled. “You clean up quite nice,” she commented as she fixed his collar.

“Me?” Merlin gave Morgana a once over. “You look amazing.”

Morgana’s cheeks took on a pink hue. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“So, the two of you then?” Merlin motioned between Morgana and Mordred. “How did I not figure that out?”

Mordred shrugged. “How else was I supposed to attend the ball? Third years aren’t allowed unless they were invited.”

“I didn’t even think about that,” Merlin confessed.

“What do you think about that?” Morgana asked, nodding towards the stairs.

At the top of the stairs stood Lisa Turpin. Her Ravenclaw blue dress stopped in ruffles just below her knees, showing off her gold colored heels. The gold also matched the leaf design in the corset of her strapless dress. Her long brown hair was in a braid that rested on her shoulder. It bounced slightly as she descended the stairs.

 _‘Don’t just stand there,’_ instructed Morgana. _‘Help her down the rest of the stairs.’_

Merlin stepped forward and offered Lisa his hand. She took it, blushing furiously.

“Thanks,” she said. “You look nice.”

Merlin smiled. “So do you.”

Lisa blushed again and quickly changed the subject. “You look sharp, Mordred,” she said, earning a grin from the Slytherin. “And Morgana your dress is gorgeous. Where’d you get it?”

“Daphne made it, actually.”

Lisa gaped at her. “What? Seriously?”

Morgana nodded and led the way into the Great Hall. “You should see some of the other stuff she comes up with.”

Merlin followed the girls to a table where Anthony and Daphne were already sitting. Next to Daphne sat Pansy, and the two gossiped while Draco sat next to his date looking very bored. His eyes were the size of saucers when he caught sight of Morgana, and was displeased when Mordred took the seat next to him.

 _‘Ruined his whole night,’_ Merlin said with a snicker.

Mordred grinned proudly. _‘Figured I’d get it in early.’_

The feast began once everyone made their orders and soon the Great Hall was full of polite chatter.

“So Daphne,” Lisa started. “Morgana told me that you made her dress.”

Daphne smiled smugly. “I did. This was the only one we could agree on.”

“The other ones were too revealing,” Morgana argued.

Daphne held her goblet up to her mouth before stating, “no one at this table would have complained, I’m sure.”

Merlin’s neck got hot, Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Mordred snorted into his own goblet of pumpkin juice. Anthony cleared his throat and brought up the Triwizard tournament, successfully changing the subject.

* * *

 Morgana hadn’t expected Lisa to be as quick witted as she was. She was charming as hell and managed to get everyone to interact at their table. Pansy and Draco even laughed at a few of her jokes. As much as Morgana wanted to like Lisa, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on wouldn’t let her.

When the feast was over, Dumbledore cleared the floor of tables and chairs. A platform was conjured for the band and the Triwizard champions took their place on the dance floor.

It wasn’t nearly as bad as Morgana thought it would be. Potter clearly didn’t know what he was doing but was wise enough to follow Parvati’s lead. Granger seemed to be enjoying herself with Krum…even though she was the envy of several girls watching them. Dumbledore and Madam Maxime joined them and soon everyone was on the dance floor.

Mordred wasn’t a show off like Draco, but that did not take away from the fact that he was a great dancer.

“Is there anything you _can’t_ do?” Morgana asked him as they danced.

Mordred thought about it for a while before answering, “I’m absolute rubbish on a broomstick.”

Morgana chuckled and scanned the dance floor. Bethany Hamilton winked at her from across the room, making Morgana blush. Anthony and Daphne were dancing nearby. Proper form forgotten, Anthony seemed to be whispering in Daphne’s ear, making her giggle.

“You and Merlin will be godparents by sixth year,” Mordred commented.

Morgana swatted his arm. “Shut up.” _Speaking of Merlin…_

Morgana found her friend dancing on the other side of the room. His form was perfect, even though he kept looking down at his feet. Lisa seemed to be enjoying the fact that Merlin was trying so hard.

The song finally ended, and the band began to play another, more upbeat tune.

“Let’s get some drinks,” Mordred said, offering his arm. Morgana took it and was escorted to the refreshment table. Neville and Ginny Weasley stood nearby.

“Weasley,” Mordred greeted his classmate.

She squinted at him. “Murdoch.”

Mordred poured a glass for Morgana and handed it to her. “Nice dress,” he complimented.

Disarmed, Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Thanks?”

Mordred smiled politely. “You’re welcome.”

They finished their drinks and returned to the dance floor. Morgana felt fine for several songs but eventually she began to feel uneasy.

 _‘I need some air,’_ she told Mordred. She excused herself, insisting that she was fine and found her way out the front doors. She followed the fairy lit path to the fountain and took a deep breath.

The noise of the fountain and the cool air helped Morgana relax. Confident that she’d be able to stand the Yule Ball for a little longer, Morgana turned away from the fountain…

…to find Cassius Warrington leering at her.

“Morgana,” he greeted.

She inwardly groaned. “Cassius.”

“It’s cold out here,” he said, slowly approaching.

“You should head inside where it’s warm,” Morgana suggested.

He gave her a look before taking off his suit jacket.

“I’m not-”

“I insist,” Cassius said, offering his jacket to her.

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Morgana turned around and let Cassius place his jacket on her shoulders. “Better?”

 _I didn’t ask for the jacket in the first place,_ she thought. “Sure.”

Cassius smiled, pleased with himself. “You look gorgeous.”

“It’s the jacket, isn’t it?” she deadpanned.

Cassius sighed. “Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“Because it’s fun.”

“Do you know what else is fun?” He came in close…too close… _way too close._

Realizing that Cassius was, in fact, crazy enough to try to kiss her, Morgana side stepped him and shoved him into the fountain. She removed his jacket, folded it neatly and placed it on the edge of the fountain.

“Well that was a bit too exciting for my tastes,” Morgana said offhandedly.

Cassius struggled to right himself in the fountain, splashing water everywhere.

“It’s dreadfully cold out here. You’ll probably need this,” she said patting his jacket. Quickly, Morgana turned on her heel and left him a drenched and sputtering mess. She couldn’t help but smiled as she re-entered the Great Hall.

“Where’ve you been?” Mordred asked.

“Oh you know, getting some air, pushing people in fountains. Just the usual.”

Mordred raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me, what?”

Morgana caught Mordred up. “…so I shoved him in the fountain.”

Mordred laughed to the point of tears. “I’m so upset that I missed that.”

Smirking, Morgana scanned the room again. She found him sitting in a corner far away from everyone with Lisa. They were just talking and laughing but something about it gave Morgana a strange feeling in her chest.

“You okay?” Mordred asked.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.” Morgana frowned as the two Ravenclaws laughed, and Lisa put a hand on Merlin’s knee to steady herself.

Like a punch in the stomach, Morgana knew why she couldn’t like Lisa. It was one single word…and it made her feel ill.

“Actually, I think I might be getting sick.” Without any explanation, Morgana headed off to the dungeons, ignoring Mordred’s call after her.

* * *

Morgana lay in bed as the door to the dormitory opened and shut. There was a shuffling of clothes before the curtain of Morgana’s bed was drawn back. Daphne climbed under the sheets and pulled the curtains back in place.

Even in the dark, Morgana knew her friend was staring at her. “I believe you’re one more bed over.”

“What happened?” Daphne demanded. “Mordred said you weren’t feeling well.”

“Just started feeling funny.”

“Mmhm, was this before or after you made a fool of Cassius?”

Morgana could barely grin at that. “After.”

Daphne sighed loudly. “Morgana-”

“I’m jealous of Lisa Turpin,” Morgana blurted.

There was a long pause before Daphne asked, “and why is that?”

“ _Daphne!_ ”

“What?” the blonde asked. “Because you like Merlin?”

Morgana grit her teeth. “…yes.”

“Bloody finally!” Daphne exclaimed. “You know I’ve been trying to get you to admit that for like _three years_?”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“Good lord, Morgana!” Daphne rolled onto her back and sighed. “So, what’re you gonna do?”

“Nothing,” Morgana said, shaking her head. “Merlin and Lisa have a thing. It’s fine.”

Daphne scoffed. “Like hell it is.”

“I’m not getting in the way of that,” Morgana insisted. “What kind of friend would I be? Just leave it.”

Daphne grunted. “Fine.”

“And you better not say a word either,” Morgana quickly added. “Leave it.”

“ _Fine._ ” Daphne grumbled. “Pity, I was just starting to like the girl.”

Thankfully, that was all Daphne had to say about the situation and the two lay in silence for a long time.

Finally Morgana spoke up. “Are you going to get in your bed?”

“No,” Daphne said sleepily, rolling onto her side. “Your bed is already warm.”

Morgana nudged her friend, and received one in return. “Merry Christmas, Daphne.”

“Merry Christmas, you stubborn arse.”


	11. Chapter 11

Morgana awoke the next morning and snuck out of bed. Daphne grumbled in her sleep at the loss of warmth. Quietly, Morgana dressed and headed down to the Great Hall. It had been transformed back to its original state and a few students were already eating their breakfast. Yawning, Morgana sat and began scooping eggs onto her plate.

Pansy plopped down opposite her, a devious smile on her face.

"Given your expression, you're about to try and ruin my morning," Morgana said, stirring her tea.

Her smile widened and she turned her head to the entryway. "Wait."

With a frown, Morgana followed Pansy's gaze.

In walked Merlin with Lisa... holding hands. He would usually wave Morgana good morning or give her a nod but today he didn't even look in Morgana's direction.

It stung.

"Doesn't feel good, does it?" Pansy asked.

Pretending to be unfazed, Morgana lightly tapped her spoon free of any liquid and took a sip of her tea. "I hope you have a lovely morning, Pansy."

Satisfied, Pansy moved further down the table to eat her breakfast.

Daphne and Mordred joined Morgana shortly thereafter, the latter looking exhausted.

"What time get you get back to the common room?" Daphne asked him.

Mordred shrugged. "A little after midnight." He yawned. "What can I say? I'm a bit of a party animal."

Daphne nudged Morgana with her elbow. "Are you going to tell Mordred?"

Morgana clenched her teeth. "Daphne. Honestly."

"Tell me what?" Mordred asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Nothing," Morgana insisted.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "About Merlin."

"Oh, you mean that you like him?" Mordred queried nonchalantly.

Morgana dropped her fork with a clank and slowly pushed her plate away from her. "I've lost my appetite," Morgana announced as she rose from the table.

"Well done, Mordred," Daphne scolded.

Mordred threw his hands in the air. "You're the one that brought it up," he defended as Morgana headed out of the Great Hall.

She mindlessly wandered the grounds from Hagrid's hut to their place in the Forbidden Forest. Eventually she found herself at the edge of the Black Lake, lost in thought.

Perhaps she had always known she had felt  _something_ for Merlin. She was rather protective of him, as Daphne had pointed out. And they were almost always together.

"But the same could be said about Mordred," Morgana said out loud. What was it, exactly, that made her like him? She needed to figure this out and she needed to figure this out right now.  _Maybe if I rationalize it, I can ignore it._

Morgana felt a humming in her chest and sighed.  _Not now._

"There you are," Merlin said as he approached her. "I've been looking for you."

"Not at breakfast," she said under her breath. Thankfully, he hadn't heard her.

"What?"

"Left breakfast…early," she spoke up.

"You left the ball early too," Merlin said. "I was hoping we could have a dance so you could see how much better I'd gotten."

Despite herself, she huffed a laugh. "What, like a final examination?"

"Yeah," he answered with a nod and fell into step with her.

"I think Lisa would have minded."

He shook his head. "She wouldn't have minded." He started walking again. "She danced with Michael and some bloke from Durmstang," he added with a shrug. He paused before adding. "So…I asked her on a date."

Morgana grit her teeth. "That's great."

"Well," Merlin started, sounding unsure. "Yeah, but we talked about it and thought it would be less awkward if we went with a group."

Morgana said nothing.

"So I was wondering if you and Mordred would want to come with us."

"You want me and Mordred to go on your date with you?" she asked, annoyed.

"Well not just you two," Merlin said with a frown. "Lisa was going to see if Anthony and Daphne wanted to go."

Given the conversation that took place last night, Morgana would bet that Daphne would do no such thing, Anthony be damned.

"I can't," Morgana lied. "I've already made plans."

"Oh." Merlin frowned in disappointment. "What plans? You're not hanging out with Cassius are you? I heard he was looking for you last night."

Morgana snorted. "I doubt he'll do that ever again," she said with a smirk. "No, I'm…doing something with Morgause."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Morgana tried to sound apologetic. "Sorry."

"No you're not," Merlin replied, humor in his voice. "You've been trying to pawn me off on her for while now. You're still stuck with me, LaFey."

Morgana let herself smile. "I wouldn't wish you on my worst enemy."

Merlin chuckled. "So are you going to tell me what happened between you and Cassius?"

At this, Morgana genuinely laughed. "You know that fountain that was outside?"

* * *

So as not to be a complete liar, Morgana later made arrangements with Morgause. The divination professor was confused at the request, but agreed regardless.

On the day of the trip to Hogsmeade, Morgana ate breakfast with everyone and waved them goodbye. Daphne, as Morgana predicted, had opted out of going to Hogsmeade altogether. She had come up with the terrible excuse that she needed to wash her hair.

"You could have come up with something better than that," Morgana laughed.

Daphne shrugged. "Well saying that I'd rather rip off my fingernails than pretend to be polite would have been considered rude."

When the group was out of sight, Daphne headed to the common room while Morgana headed towards the forest. Morgause stood at the edge, waiting for her.

"Is everything alright?" she asked in greeting.

Morgana nodded. "Yes…if you'd rather-"

"There's nowhere I'd rather be," Morgause cut in with a smile. They started walking before she continued. "I've been thinking about your training. You've done well so far but…"

Morgana raised an eyebrow. "But?" she queried.

"If you were trying to search my mind and I keep you out, what would you think?"

Morgana frowned at the question. "Well…I would think that you were keeping me out."

Morgause smiled, pleased. "Exactly. Any good Legilimens would sense this. The real art is misdirection, or if you're truly talented, a lie."

"Memories don't lie," Morgana said. "Do they?"

Morgause smirked. "They can. All you have to do is believe that the lie is  _your_ truth."

"I don't think I can do that," Morgana admitted.

"It's alright, sweetheart," Morgause assured her. "We have all day to practice."

* * *

"You should have been there," Mordred insisted, plopping down on the couch next to Daphne. The Slytherin common room was slowly filling up with students returning from Hogsmeade. "It was hilarious."

"Well I'm glad you had a good time," Morgana mumbled.

Mordred gave her a look. "You can't be like that."

"The hell she can't," Daphne defended. "Did Anthony enjoy himself?"

Mordred shook his head. "No, he was absolutely miserable."

Daphne squinted at him. "Did he tell you to say that?"

"Yes," he admitted with a smile. "But he also said he missed you and hopes you won't be upset with him for having a good time."

Daphne pursed her lips. "I'll think about it."

Mordred shook his head at her and returned his gaze to Morgana. "He's your best friend."

"With a girlfriend," Morgana countered.

"Yes," Mordred agreed. "And he has no idea what he's doing. He's going to come to you for help eventually. What are you going to do then?"

Morgana didn't answer. She hadn't quite figured that part out yet.

* * *

The morning of the Second Task had finally arrived. February brought along warmer weather, but it was still quite chilly outside. Lisa had taken Merlin's arm for additional warmth as they made their way to the stands at the edge of the Black Lake.

Plenty of students and teachers were already seated, cheering for their favorites. Merlin scanned the crowd and waved when he found Morgana and Mordred. They returned his gesture and went back to their conversation. Merlin frowned.

Ever since the Yule Ball, Morgana had been distant. She had claimed that she was giving him space, given his new relationship. But Merlin never asked for that and was beginning to think he had done something wrong.

"Let's sit with Anthony," Lisa suggested, tugging him in their friend's direction.

Merlin cringed. Anthony was sitting with Daphne, who had been a lot less pleasant lately. To her credit, Lisa either hadn't noticed or didn't care.

"Morning," Anthony greeted.

"Morning," Lisa chirped. "Has anyone said what the task is yet?"

Anthony shook his head. "They don't even know where Potter is."

Merlin frowned. Admittedly, he didn't know Harry very well, but he didn't seem like the type of bloke to back out of a challenge. "What happens if he doesn't show?"

"Forfeit, I'd imagine," Lisa answered.

The last few students were joining the crowd when Potter came sprinting towards the lake. He was panting and holding his ribs.

The commentator held his wand to his throat and said, " **Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One…two… _three_!** "

The champions immediately began shedding some of their clothing. Krum began transforming into a shark as he waded into the water. Diggory and Delacour waved their wands before diving in. Harry shoved something in his mouth as he shivered against the wind.

"That water's got to be freezing," Lisa observed.

Merlin nodded in agreement. "Couldn't pay me to swim in that."

"No?" Lisa questioned with a grin. "Not even to help someone you cared about?"

Daphne smiled evilly. "Shall we test the theory?"

Morgana pinched the bridge of her nose. " _Daphne_."

"Let's not," Anthony advised, patting his girlfriend's knee.

* * *

Not too long after the challenge started, Fleur Delacour rose out of the water empty handed and hysterical. Madam Pomfrey had tried to wrap her in a warm blanket, but the champion was not having it. She was crying in French and all Merlin could make out was the name Gabrielle.

Almost an hour went by before anything else happened that the spectators could actually see. Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang broke the surface of the water first. The crowd burst into loud cheers and a few Hufflepuffs were chanting Diggory's name.

It was then that Merlin became very much aware of Ron and Hermione's absence.

He turned to Anthony and asked, "Hey, did you see Weasley and Granger?"

To answer his question, Krum and Hermione emerged from the lake. His shark head startled her, but he quickly transfigured back to normal. They swam to the lake bed, Krum protectively swimming next to her.

Merlin shook his head in amusement. "Never mind."

Harry and Ron rose to the surface of the lake next, a little silver-haired girl between them. Fleur cried in relief and fought against Madam Maxime to return to the water as Harry and Ron helped the girl swim ashore.

The Merpeople of the lake has escorted Potter to the surface, and were now speaking with Dumbledore…in Mermish. Finally, the headmaster straightened up, turned to his fellow judges and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."

As the judges huddled, Madam Pomfrey fussed over the champions and their hostages. Fleur thanked the two Gryffindors for saving her sister with a peck on the cheek.

"I'd swim the Black Lake for you," Merlin heard Anthony whisper to Daphne as he kissed her forehead.

Merlin rolled his eyes but Daphne turned pink and rested her head on Anthony's shoulder.

**"Ladies and gentleman, we have reached our decision. The Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…**

**Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."**

Despite Delacour's protests, the crowd applauded.

**"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour." The Hufflepuffs erupted into cheers as their fellow housemate was awarded forty-seven points.**

**"Victor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty-five points.**

**Harry Potter used gillyweed with great effect,"**  the commentator continued.  **"He returned last and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was the first to reach the hostages and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."**

Mordred burst out laughing.  _'Typical Potter. My lord!'_

**"Most of the judges feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However…Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."**

Gryffindor house's roar was deafening and Merlin couldn't help but applaud with everyone else.

* * *

Following Potter's triumphant performance during the second task, another article was published. This time Rita Skeeter targeted Hermione, claiming the muggleborn was toying with Krum and Potter. While Merlin knew this was absolute rubbish, some readers of  _Witch Weekly_  felt the need to intervene.

Granger received all kinds of hate mail. They ranged from calling her awful names to an envelope covered in undiluted bubotuber pus. Her hands had broken out in huge boils and she had to go to the infirmary. This went on for over a week and while Hermione was wise enough to stop opening the letters, a few of them were Howlers. The letters would burst into flames before shrieking hateful messages at the Gryffindor table.

Even if they didn't read the article, the entire school was privy to the supposed love triangle.

"She could do better than Krum and  _loads_  better than Potter," Mordred commented one day in the library.

Morgana smiled from behind her Divination journal. "Still on about that?"

Merlin snorted. "You do know it's not true, don't you?"

"Of course," Mordred insisted. "Hermione's a smart girl."

"She is sort of dating Krum though," Morgana said offhandedly.

Merlin frowned. "How do you know?"

Morgana raised an eyebrow at him. "I saw them in here the other day. He usually watches her study, which is kind of weird…but they snogged over by the history section."

"I don't believe you." Mordred shook his head in denial.

Merlin patted his friend's back in sympathy. "Don't worry, Mordred. He'll be gone next year and you can go back to fawning over her in peace."

Mordred clenched his fists. "I hate you." He gave a giggling Morgana a dangerous look, making her pause. "I hate both of you."

* * *

Michael Corner looked out at the Quidditch pitch and gripped his broom tightly. "This is wrong."

The rest of the Ravenclaw team nodded in agreement. The usually smooth and flat pitch now had low walls crossing and turning this way and that.

"Looks like a maze," Merlin observed. "That must be the final task."

"That's great and everything, but what about our pick-up game?" Michael asked.

"Not happening," Merlin said with a shrug. He didn't show it, but Merlin had been looking forward to flying again. It had been far too long. "You think they'd let us fly around a bit?"

Michael shook his head sadly. "It's not the same…" he wandered back inside, his head hung in defeat.

"Come on," said Roger Davies. "We won't disturb their maze, but I've got to get my feet of the ground before I go mad."

The rest of the team agreed and they took to the sky, tossing the Quaffle around. They stayed out until there was no light outside. The team grudgingly headed back inside and made their way up the Great Staircase.

On the third floor, Merlin ran into Morgana, who was coming from the library.

"What are you up to?" she asked, eyeing the rest of the team.

Merlin shrugged. "Thought we'd play a pick-up game but just ending up flying around. You know they turned the pitch into a maze?"

Morgana nodded, unsurprised.

"Of course," Merlin sighed. "You know everything."

Morgana smiled sweetly. "Oh look, you've caught on. Well done."

He smiled back and realized this was the first time they had been alone together for a long time. "Off to the dungeons?"

"…maybe," she said slowly, reading him. "What did you have in mind?"

' _When's the last time we went to the forest?'_

A slow, mischievous smile graced Morgana's face.  _'Let's go.'_

"There you are," Lisa called, looking down at her feet as she descended the stairs. "Anthony said you were off…" she stopped when she caught sight of Morgana. "…flying."

' _Never mind then.'_  Morgana said. "G'night."

' _Wait.'_

"Sorry," Lisa said quickly. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll just catch up to you later." She spun around and headed back up the stairs.

"Hang on," Merlin called after her.  _What is happening? 'Morgana?'_

He felt her magic wash over him, pushing him in Lisa's direction.  _'Go. If you don't, she'll be upset.'_

Merlin refrained from pointing out that she seemed equally upset.  _'Morgana-'_

She pushed him again, harder this time, and quickly headed down the stairs without another word. Grumbling under his breath, he went after Lisa.

"Oye, hang on," he shouted, running to catch up. "What's going on?"

She shook her head. "I was just looking for you, that's all."

"Well, here I am," Merlin said with a grin. It disappeared when he realized Lisa was still upset. "Are you okay?"

Lisa sighed and visibly relaxed. "I think I'm just being silly."

Merlin tilted his head and frowned. "Silly?"

Lisa nodded. "Yeah. I know you and Morgana are close, and that's fine," she quickly added. "I just…I don't know."

Merlin's frown turned into a smirk. "You're jealous."

"Don't look so smug about it, Ambrose."

Merlin chuckled. "She and I are friends," he explained patiently.

"Best friends," Lisa corrected.

Merlin nodded. "Yes, best friends. But that's all."

"I know," Lisa relented. "Like I said, I'm just being silly."

"Yes you are," he agreed, poking her ribs.

She giggled before swatting his hand away. Without warning, she grabbed his face and pressed her lips against his. It happened so fast that Merlin barely registered how soft her lips were when she released him.

"Oh." He whispered, making her giggle.

"Sorry," she apologized.

"'S fine," he assured her. Clearing his throat, he took her hand and led her to Ravenclaw tower. He wasn't exactly sure what just happened, but he was pleased Lisa wasn't upset with him.

Now if he could just figure out what was going on with Morgana.


	12. Chapter 12

News of an attack on Viktor Krum and Mr. Crouch made its way through the school. Some thought it was just a rumor, but Merlin noticed there were Auror patrols near the Forbidden Forest. He tried to speak with Morgana about it, but she had made that difficult.

She was avoiding him… again. It was annoying before but now Merlin was downright frustrated. They saw each other too often to _not_ talk _._ Somehow, Morgana had managed to do what Merlin had thought was impossible. He wasn’t able to catch up to her until after Charms class on Friday before the Third Task.

_‘Will you wait up a second?’_ he called after her.

Thankfully she stopped, and raised an eyebrow at him. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, you can tell me what I did,” Merlin demanded.

She tilted her head curiously. “What you did?”

“You’ve been acting like I don’t exist,” he said, frowning. “What did I do?”

Morgana pressed her lips together in thought. “Moody’s going over hex defections in your next class…and your girlfriend is waiting for you. See you later.” She gave him a small smile and turned on her heel.

Merlin’s instincts told him to stop her, but he thought better of it and just watched her go. Irritated all over again, Merlin faced Lisa, who was giving him a sad look.

“I dunno what I did,” he said quietly.

“I know.” Lisa rubbed his back soothingly. “She’ll come ‘round eventually.”

* * *

 

 For once, Merlin was grateful for the work load that fourth years had been given. It managed to distract him from his Morgana problem. Several others didn’t appreciate the extra homework.

“How the hell are we supposed to remember all this?!” Terry Boot exclaimed during their Sunday study session. “I mean, honestly, who cares about Itor the Irritable? Who’s going to need to know that in their everyday life? I mean really…”

Everyone in the Ravenclaw common room stared at him in silence until Padma added, “it doesn’t even test your intelligence; just your memory.”

Terry threw his quill down. “Exactly! This is ridiculous!”

A few nearby sixth years burst out laughing before offering encouraging words. Terry was having none of it.

“Ok,” Lisa reached across the table and closed his textbook. “I think you need a break. Go get some air or something, Terry.”

Mumbling to himself, Terry did what she recommended and left the common room. Merlin chuckled to himself and returned to his notes on Ancient Runes.

“How’s it going?” Lisa asked, nudging Merlin. “You’re not going to have a breakdown on me, are you?”

Merlin gave her a cheeky grin. “I haven’t started Arithmancy yet,” he confessed. “Anything could happen at this point.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh shut it, Merlin. You’re brilliant at Arithmancy.”

Merlin smiled at the compliment. “What about you?”

“Dunno,” she said, stretching. “Might have to go on a walk too. Terry’s right; this history revision is awful.” She stood suddenly. “Think I’ll get something from the kitchens. Do you want anything?”

Merlin shook his head. “No thanks.”

She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. “What about you, Padma? Anthony?”

Anthony shook his head as well, but Padma got to her feet. “I’ll go with you. Could use the break.”

The girls left, and Anthony quickly turned to Merlin. “How’s that going?”

Merlin frowned at his textbook. “I’ve got most of the translations, but this one is so similar to-”

“Not runes, you idiot,” Anthony laughed. “I meant Lisa.”

“Oh…” Merlin shrugged. “Fine I guess. She did say she was jealous of Morgana a few days ago, though.”

“Gee, I can’t imagine why on earth she would feel that way,” Anthony droned.

“Shut up,” Merlin muttered. “ _She’s_ still not talking to me.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Dunno,” Merlin sighed. “But I’m tired of chasing her. If she wants to talk, she’ll have to come to me.”

Anthony chuckled and returned to his work. “Yeah, we’ll see, mate.”

* * *

 “Well that was boring.” Daphne adjusted her bookbag on her shoulder. “I much preferred the skrewts.”

Morgana pursed her lips to keep from laughing. There was something seriously wrong with her friend. “So unicorns just don’t do it for you?”

“Don’t get me wrong, the unicorns were lovely,” she replied, following the group of students into the Great Hall. “But I only take that class to live dangerously. Professor Hagrid let me down today.”

Giggling, Morgana took a seat across from Mordred and Astoria, who were huddled over a textbook.

“What’s so funny?” Mordred asked. “I want to laugh too.”

Astoria slid the book in front of her and flipped through a few pages. “Something awful I bet.”

“It’s nothing,” Daphne sighed. “I was just telling Morgana how much I missed the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Unicorns weren’t as exciting as I would have liked.”

Astoria just shook her head. “How are we related? I just don’t understand.”

Morgana nodded at Astoria’s textbook. “What’s that?”

“Defense,” Mordred answered. “Moody’s great and all but he hardly teaches from the book. How exactly are we supposed to study?”

Astoria sucked her teeth. “I don’t know Mordred. Maybe if you took some notes-”

“Why would I take notes when I can just use yours?” he replied cheekily. “They’re so neat and well organized.”

“I refuse to drag you along, Murdoch.” Astoria flipped her book shut. “Come fifth year, you’re on your own.”

Mordred smiled at her, but spoke to Morgana. _‘Speaking of Moody…does he make you feel weird when you’re in his class?’_

_‘He’s a strange man,’_ Morgana answered.

_‘I don’t mean like that. I mean_ literally _make you feel weird.’_

Morgana raised an eyebrow at him.

He gave her a discreet nod. _‘Next time you’re in class, focus your magic. It feels really strange in his classroom.’_

Morgana returned the nod and made a mental note.

* * *

 The air in Trelawney’s classroom was hot and thick as usual. Morgana and Daphne sat in their usual place and shed their robes.

“Any hotter and someone is going to pass out in here,” Daphne muttered.

Morgana agreed. The heat alone was too much but the added incense made her head swim.

“My dears,” Professor Trelawney said from her armchair. She peered at them dramatically. “We have almost finished our work on planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time.”

Morgana reached in her bag and took out her notes from astronomy class. Daphne raised a curious eyebrow at her but Morgana held up a finger telling her to wait. When she found her astronomy chart, she showed Daphne.

Amused, Daphne shook her head. “You are such a nerd,” she whispered.

“So?” Ignoring her friend, Morgana continued to listen to Trelawney drone on as she flipped through her astronomy notes. It was all she could do to stay awake. With the mixture of warm air, incense and calming voice Morgana vision soon began to blur and everything went dark…

_“Kill the spare.”_

_“Avada Kedevra!”_

_“Bone of the father…flesh of the servant…_

_Blood of the enemy…you will resurrect your foe…”_

_“HARRY!”_

_“Did he forgive the scum?”_

_…an eye rolled across the floor…_

_…Dumbledore’s eyes burned in rage…_

Morgana eyes flew open. She was tightly gripping the table and taking quick, shallow breaths. No one seemed to notice that she’d had a vision. No one but Daphne, who was staring wide eyed in concern.

“What the fu-”

Suddenly Potter started yelling and fell out of his chair. He hit the floor, clawing at his scar. Weasley jumped out of his chair to help and a few students stood from their seats to watch. A thick drop of blood fell from Morgana’s nose and landed on her astronomy notes.

Daphne pressed a handkerchief to her friend’s nose.”What the hell is going on?”

“You alright?” Wealsey asked Potter.

“Of course he isn’t,” Trelawney said excitedly. “What was it Potter? A premonition? An apparition? What did you see?”

Morgana leaned in to Daphne. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

“I need to go to the hospital wing, I think,” Potter replied. “Bad headache.”

“Morgana needs to go too,” Daphne asserted loudly.

Trelawney turned slowly to look at Morgana. The bloody handkerchief was still pressed to her nose but Trelawney was still excited. “My dears, you both were undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary clairvoyant vibrations of my room! If you leave now-”

“Her nose is _literally_ bleeding and who knows what kind of damage Potter’s got.” Daphne narrowed her gaze dangerously.

Without waiting for permission, Morgana stood, shoved her things in her bag and made for the door.

“See you later,” Potter said to Weasley.

In complete silence, the two left the classroom, leaving Trelawney disappointed. They walked together for awhile before Morgana came to a stop.

“Let’s not play these games, Potter,” she said, wiping her nose. “You and I both know we’re not going to the hospital wing.”

When he didn’t argue Morgana headed towards the stairs. She was one step down when he called after her.

“LaFey.”

“Potter.”

He came closer, concern etched in his features. “What…what’s happening?” He sounded confused and a little shaken.

_Good._

She raised her eyebrow at him. “I’ve already told you, and you thought it was some sort of ‘sick joke’.” She continued down the stairs and threw over her shoulder, “good luck tomorrow.”

The Beauxbaton carriage was parked at the edge of the forest. The patrolling aurors were about to send Morgana in the other direction until she approached the carriage. She knocked twice and waited.

One of the students answered and stared at Morgana suspiciously from behind the cracked open door.

“ _Good afternoon. Is Professor Duvall available?”_ Morgana asked in perfect French.

Surprisingly pleased, the student’s eyes widened. _“Yes…one moment.”_

_“Thank you.”_

There was a bit of shuffling inside before Morgause emerged. She frowned in worry when she saw Morgana and made sure they were out of hearing distance before she spoke.

“Is everything alright?”

“I had a vision in divination,” Morgana immediately explained.

“I’m sure Trelawney enjoyed that-”

Morgana cut her off. “She didn’t notice over the sound of Potter screaming and falling out.”

Morgause raised her eyebrows in concern. “What?”

“I think he saw something too.”

“Where is he?” Morgause demanded, her tone becoming hard.

Morgana shrugged. “I’m not sure but if I had to guess…Professor Dumbledore’s office.”

Taking a deep breath, Morgause visibly relaxed. “Good. Albus will look after him. Now tell me, what did you see?”

Morgana quickly explained that she had had this vision before but the addition of the rolling eye and Dumbledore’s ire.

“An eye?”

Morgana nodded. “It was like it was still looking around.”

“What did it look like?”

“It was bigger than usual…uh, blue iris. It was like it was…” Morgana paused realizing something. “An eye that can still see…and even see through solid wood. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that eye before…a few times.”

Morgause frowned. “A few times?”

Morgana nodded. “A few times…like all year.”

The divination teacher’s face lit up in realization. “Moody.”

Morgana nodded slowly. “Moody.”

Morgause pressed her wrist into her mouth. Frowning in thought, she said nothing for a long time.

“I have to go,” she said suddenly. She uncrossed her arms and spoke firmly. “Go inside…and steer clear of Moody.”

“But-”

“No ‘buts’. Do as I say. I’ll be in contact.”

The discussion over, Morgana went back inside the castle…only to run into the very man she was supposed to stay away from. Thankfully, he wasn’t alone.

“My, Miss LaFey,” the Minister of Magic greeted her. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Shouldn’t you be in divination?” Dumbledore asked curiously.

“Yes professor,” she admitted. “The room was a bit hot and I had a nosebleed.” She showed the handkerchief as proof. “I was going to head to the infirmary but thought I’d try to get some fresh air first.”

“It’s dangerous about, Miss LaFey,” Moody said. Something about the way he said it made her feel uncomfortable.

Mordred’s words came to mind, and Morgana used her Occlumency training before she addressed him. “I had full faith in the aurors that are protecting the castle, Professor. Being in danger never crossed my mind.”

“Constant vigilance!” he barked.

“Indeed,” Dumbledore agreed, amused. “I hope you’re feeling better Miss LaFey. Now, off you go.”

“Yes sir.” She passed the Great Hall and stopped. _‘Harry?’_

_‘Is safely in my office.’_ Dumbledore replied. _‘Your concern is admirable.’_

She nodded, even though she knew he couldn’t see her.

On a whim, she focused her magic on the inhabitants of the entry hall. An odd, but familiar feeling over took her. It reminded her of the presence she and her friends felt in the woods the night of the Quidditch match. Slowly, she turned around and her heart dropped into her stomach.

Dumbledore and Fudge were nowhere to be found. Professor Moody, however, was looking right at her with both eyes.

His face split into a smile. _‘Constant vigilance, Miss LaFey.’_

* * *

 Merlin watched, unamused, the antics of the Slytherin table. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were taking turns pretending to pass out. Rita Skeeter had, once again, published an article Potter. This time it painted the poor Gryffindor as an unstable attention seeker.

“Always knew something was wrong with him,” Michael commented over his breakfast.

Annoyed, Merlin snatched the paper from him and crumpled it up.

“Didn’t know you were such a fan, Ambrose,” Michael teased.

Merlin scooped up some of his eggs. “I don’t like garbage next to my face while I’m eating.”

Padma snorted into her juice.

“Who do you think is going to win it?” Terry asked, changing the subject.

Without hesitation, Michael answered, “Diggory. No question.”

“Dunno.” Anthony folded his hands on the table. “Potter’s been rather good.”

“Dumb luck.”

“You can’t take away from his magical talent, Michael,” Lisa chided gently. “He’s decent, and lucky…I’d say Potter.”

Merlin nodded. “Yeah. Potter’s gonna win it.”

“You’re such a good dog,” Michael replied in jest.

Merlin flung his eggs at Michael face. Stunned, Michael looked down at the eggs on his shirt and slowly returned his gaze to Merlin. He looked murderous. There was a moment’s pause before Merlin leapt from the table. He sprinted for the door, with Michael on his heels.

Filch caught the two and gave them detention, keeping Michael from exacting his revenge. Laughing, the two headed to class to take their final exams.

* * *

 The final task was to take place on the Quidditch pitch. The stands quickly filled with students and teachers. Merlin, and a few other Ravenclaws, sat opposite the field’s entrance. He caught sight of Mordred and Morgana, who were sitting a few seats below him. For a moment he thought of saying hello, but stopped. If she wanted to play the silent treatment game, that was fine with him.

Neville, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas took seats next to Merlin, and the four struck up casual conversation until the announcer got their attention.

**“Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place with eighty-five points each – Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!”**

The crowd erupted into cheers, sending the birds in the forest out into the quickly darkening sky.

**“In second place, with eighty points – Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstang Institute! And in third place – Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbaton Academy!”**

A whistle was blown, and off Cedric and Harry went into the hedge maze. A few minutes later, the whistle was blown again, signaling Krum to enter. Finally, Fleur entered the maze, taking off at a run.

“What do you reckon?” Lisa asked, nodding at Fleur’s quickly disappearing form.

“I’d be a miracle if she even came close,” Merlin replied, earning a giggle.

Twenty minutes went by before anything happened. The hedges were so high that the spectators couldn’t really see anything. However, the hedges didn’t block out sound. A scream broke through the air and the crowd quieted their chatter, waiting for something to happen.

“Sounded like Fleur,” Merlin mumbled.

Neville turned to him, concerned. “You think she’s okay?”

“They’re supposed to send up sparks if they can’t get out of trouble,” Lisa reminded them.

Again they waited from some kind of sign, but none came.

“I guess that means she’s alright.” Neville’s tone suggested he didn’t believe the words he spoke.

A few minutes later, they heard yelling…closely followed by more screams. These were not the high pitched screams of Fleur Delacour.

Several people in the stands stood up in the hopes of actually _seeing_ something.

Lisa frowned, shaking her head. “Something’s not right.”

Merlin couldn’t help but agree. Something wasn’t right at all. Not just because of the screaming. It was a feeling he had deep in his stomach. His eyes wandered over to where Mordred and Morgana were sitting. _Morgana would have told me if she’d had a vision, wouldn’t she?_

Red sparks lit the sky and a few people sighed in relief. An unconscious Viktor Krum was pulled from the maze.

“A Hogwarts win then!” a few nearby students cheered.

Merlin grit his teeth. Where was Fleur? What was that screaming?  Something still didn’t feel right. Again, his eyes wandered over to his friends. This time, Morgana was gripping Mordred’s arm and she swayed as if she was dizzy.

_Oh shit._

Without hesitation, Merlin jumped up from his seat and climbed over people and seats to get to Morgana. “Pardon me...’scuse me…watch your head!”

He dropped down in front of her and cradled her face in his hands.

“Merlin,” she said weakly. Her green eyes had gold glowing flecks in them.

She was fighting her own magic.

Merlin pulled her to her feet. “Come on. Mordred-”

“Right behind you,” he replied, helping push Morgana along.

They made it just behind the seats in the stands when Morgana fell to her knees. Her breathing was rapid and shallow.

“Morgana?” Merlin tried to pick her back up, but she wouldn’t move.

“Kill the spare,” she wheezed. “Kill the spare!” Morgana finally succumbed to her vision. Gasping for air, her eyes turned completely golden and her body went limp.

Mordred kept her from hitting the ground, yelling her name. “What do we do?” his voice trembled in fear.

Merlin swallowed the lump in his throat. “There’s nothing we can do. We just…have to wait.”


	13. Chapter 13

Waiting was taking too long. Merlin had never known Morgana to have a vision last longer than a few seconds. It had been three minutes (Merlin kept checking his watch) and she still wasn't responsive.

Merlin felt a sick twist in his chest. He grimaced and was surprised to see that Mordred had a similar expression.

"You felt that, too?" the young Slytherin asked.

Finally, after five minutes, Morgana regained consciousness. She grabbed Merlin by the front of his shirt and pulled him down to his knees so that they were eye level.

"Moody," she gasped, gold still glowing in her eyes. "Find Dumbledore…don't trust Moody…don't trust Moody." Just as quickly as she came to, she was out again.

"Go," Mordred demanded, shifting Morgana in his arms. "I've got her. Find Dumbledore."

Merlin hesitated. "Are you sure?" He didn't want to leave her.

"I'll get her to Pomfrey." Mordred picked Morgana up. "Go."

Dumbledore was on the complete opposite side of the field. Merlin took off at a run, taking Morgana's desperate tone as a need for urgency. Cheering from the pitch made Merlin stop. He ran back out towards the all the commotion.

The Hogwarts Champions were out of the maze. Harry was bleeding and holding onto Cedric protectively. The judges were trying to make him let go but Harry fought against them. Cedric Diggory wasn't moving. And the cheering turned into screams.

"Oh no." Merlin watched as Harry finally let go of Cedric. He caught sight of Moody closing in on the Gryffindor and remembered Morgana's words.  _Don't trust Moody._

Merlin took off again, taking the stairs down three at a time. He came to the tunnel that led to the field and skidded to a stop. Something drew his attention away from the pitch. Slowly, he turned toward the school. Moody was all but dragging Harry inside the castle.

_Don't trust Moody._

Merlin took a step in their direction and stopped. He was no match for an auror. Not alone.

_Find Dumbledore._

He turned heel and ran the other way. He broke through the crowd that had surrounded Cedric. Mr. Diggory's sobs made Merlin feel sick.

"What the hell happened, Albus?"

" _Diggory's dead!_ "

"Is he really-?"

"Who's responsible for this?!"

"Professor," Merlin spoke up. He was intercepted by Snape.

"What are you doing down here?"

Merlin didn't have time for this. He shoved passed his potions teacher, only to be stopped by McGonagall.

"Mr. Ambrose," she started sternly.

"Where's Harry?" Merlin demanded. He knew the answer, but did they?

McGonagall looked around to see that Harry was nowhere to be found. "Albus!"

The old sorcerer turned to her, then to Merlin. "Ambrose-"

"Moody has him." Merlin pointed down the tunnel. "He was taking him inside the school."

"Alastor would never take him out of our sight," McGonagall said, so that only they could hear.

Merlin repeated Morgana's words. "Don't trust Moody."

"Severus, Minerva, with me." Dumbledore brushed past Merlin with the other teachers on his heel.  _'I do believe you have a Seer to look after.'_

None of the other adults seemed to pay Merlin any mind as he left the field and headed back into the stands. He backtracked to find Mordred carrying Morgana down a set of stairs.

"I'll take her," Merlin offered, holding out his arms.

Mordred didn't argue as they clumsily shifted Morgana to Merlin. "What happened?"

"Diggory's dead," Merlin said solemnly. "Voldemort's back and Moody's got Harry."

"Shit!"

Merlin carefully descended the rest of the stairs and headed into the tunnel. He picked up his pace on flat ground. "Dumbledore went after them. He'll be fine." Merlin spoke the last part more so for himself. If something happened to Harry that he could have prevented… _No. He'll be fine._ Merlin looked down at Morgana, who was still out cold.  _They'll both be fine._

* * *

Merlin gingerly placed Morgana on one of the beds and called for Madam Pomfrey again.

"She's probably down at the pitch," Mordred suggested, headed towards the door. "I'll find her."

The doors burst open just as Mordred approached them. Three Weasleys, Hermione and Madam Pomfrey joined them in the infirmary.

"What are you doing here?" Ron spat at Mordred.

Mordred, to his credit, completely ignored the Gryffindor. "Madam Pomfrey, my friend went passed out and she won't wake back up."

Without missing a beat, Madam Pomfrey crossed the infirmary to Morgana and began an examination.

Merlin moved out of the way but stayed close.

"What happened?" Hermione asked quietly.

Morgana had told Merlin about her warning to Hermione last year. That she confessed to being a Seer and that Harry was in danger.

Quietly, so that only Hermione could hear, Merlin answered. "She had another vision. Woke up long enough to warn me about Moody and went back out."

Hermione's eyes widened and she covered her gaping mouth. Shaking her head, she whispered back, "she warned us."

Merlin bit back a sarcastic reply. Now was not the time for an 'I told you so'. "Yeah, she did."

"There's nothing I can do for her right now, Mr. Murdoch." Madam Pomfrey turned to Merlin. "She's fine for now. The two of you should head to your houses."

"I'm not leaving her." Merlin made sure he spoke in a way that this was not up for debate.

"I'm not either," Mordred added, crossing his arms.

Pomfrey was about to give them a good scolding when in walked Dumbledore, Harry and a rather large dog.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "Oh Harry!"

"Molly." Dumbledore held up his hand. "Please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me. What he needs no is sleep, and peace and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him," Dumbledore looked over his glasses at Ron, Hermione and the third Weasley, "you may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

Mordred sat on the edge of Morgana's bed, his arms still crossed.  _'I dare him to kick us out.'_

Dumbledore slowly made his way to Morgana's bed. He looked down at her, a mix of pity and concern in his eyes. "I need not tell you to look after her, do I, Mr. Ambrose?"

"It would be a bit redundant at this point, sir."

That earned a small smile from the headmaster. "I should also thank you for bringing Harry's absence to my attention."

Merlin took the other occupants of the room into consideration.  _'She told me, sir. She said to find you and not trust Moody.'_

Dumbledore gave a discreet nod and said nothing else as he left the hospital wing.

Relieved that they weren't being kicked out, Merlin found a chair and pulled it up to Morgana's bed. He sighed tiredly and moved some of Morgana's hair from her face. She had been out for a long time now, and he was starting to get worried.

"I better find Daphne," Mordred said, standing up. "She'd tear this school apart trying to find Morgana..." he lowered his voice. "Especially after what happened."

Merlin nodded. He did not have the energy to deal with an angry Daphne Greengrass. "Go. Tell her we're in the hospital wing…and she can see Morgana in the morning." He added privately, ' _don't think Potter needs a crowd.'_

Mordred nodded and left.

"Ambrose."

Merlin turned to Harry.

He seemed different somehow. But after seeing what he had…dealing with what happened tonight, who would be the same? "Thanks for…" he stared off into space for a moment, unable to find the words. "…I don't know what he would have done."

Merlin shook his head. "Get some rest Harry."

Harry nodded, drank the potion that was being given to him and settled into his bed.

Merlin stifled a yawn and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  _It's gonna be a long night,_  he thought. He looked down at Morgana and willed her to wake up.

* * *

 A ringing in Morgana's ears slowly made her aware of her surroundings. She felt a weight had been placed on her chest, preventing her from moving. She was, however, able to open her eyes. The first thing she saw was Merlin's ear.

He was leaning over her slightly, but his attention was elsewhere.

"Muh..Merlin?" she rasped.

It was enough to get his attention. He smiled down at her, relief written all over his face.

"Wha-?"

Merlin quietly shushed her.  _'Diggory…'_ he paused and bit his lip.  _'Diggory is dead. Harry watched it happen. Morgana, Voldemort's back.'_

Of course, Morgana knew this already. She knew someone was going to die, that Voldemort was going to return and that Harry would somehow be involved.

She also knew Fudge would turn against Dumbledore; that the _Daily Prophet_ would paint him and Harry both as raving lunatics. She had Seen it all, and yet, there was nothing to be done about it.

Morgana managed to nod her understanding, for his sake.

"I was worried about you," he said quietly. "Don't scare me like that ever again."

She felt him squeeze her hand. Gathering all the strength she had, Morgana returned the gesture. She let herself relax and soon fell asleep.

* * *

 The next few days were a blur. Whispers about what happened during the Third Task washed over Morgana like white noise. She found herself in a daze most of the time, struggling to focus.

The Leaving Feast was a somber event. The black drapes that would hold the winning house's color were black out of respect for Cedric.

Dumbledore stood to make his speech and the room fell silent. "The end of another year. There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight, but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured to the Hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please to stand, and raise your glasses to Cedric Diggory."

Everyone, raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory."

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

"Whoa," Daphne whispered.

She was not the only one. A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief and horror. He looked perfectly calm as the whispers died down.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so – either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as a result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

Morgana's respect for Dumbledore went up slightly.

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."

All eyes fell on Potter. He stubbornly kept his gaze on Dumbledore.

"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore claimed. "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."

Dumbledore raised his goblet to Potter, and the majority of the students did the same. Most of the Slytherin table stayed seated, Morgana included. War was coming, she knew, and Morgana preferred to follow her father's example and remain neutral.

"The Triwizard Tournament's aim," Dumbledore continued, "was to further promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened – of Lord Voldemort's return – such ties are more important than ever."

"Every guest in this Hall," Dumbledore looked at the Durmstang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again – in light of Lord Voldemort's return, we're only as strong as we are united, weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Difference of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open."

"It is my belief – and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken – that we are all faceing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.

Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory…"

* * *

 

"Merlin."

"Morgana."

"Let. Go."

"No, it's fine. I've got it."

" _Merlin."_

"What?"

Mordred had had enough. "I DON'T LIKE IT WHEN MUMMY AND DADDY FIGHT!" That earned strange looks from passersby on the train. Mordred took Morgana's trunk that was being fought over, and stashed it himself. "There! Now sit down and shut up the both of you. Honestly…"

Morgana eyed Merlin as he sat down. "What are you doing?"

"What?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're sitting with us?"

Merlin nodded slowly. "Unless you want me to sit somewhere else?"

Morgana sat down herself. "I just thought you'd be sitting with Lisa."

The tips of his ears turned red. "Uh…no."

"No?" Mordred frowned.

"No."

"And what exactly does that mean?" Morgana asked.

"We… well… _she_  broke up with me."

Morgana ignored the swooping feeling in her stomach. "What the hell for?"

"I sort of abandoned her during the tournament," Merlin admitted.

Mordred snorted. "You kicked Shawn Keeble in the head."

"Well he should have moved his big damn head, shouldn't he?" Merlin said defensively.

"Hang on." Morgana waved her arms to gain their attention. "What are you talking about?"

Mordred pointed at Merlin. "This idiot climbed over six rows of seats to get to you."

Merlin blushed and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "The fastest way from point A to point B is a straight line."

"Uh huh," Mordred chuckled. "Then he ran down to the field, ran halfway back and carried you all the way to the hospital wing."

Morgana looked at Merlin curiously. He had completely left this part of that evening's events out of his retelling. "Did he?"

Merlin looked down at his shoes. "Adrenaline."

"Adrenaline, huh?" Morgana raised an eyebrow. "Sure."

"Yes," Merlin insisted.

Morgana bit back a smile as her heart fluttered in her chest. "I never did thank you for that, did I?"

Merlin looked her right in the eye and said firmly, "you don't have to."

"Thank you anyway," she said softly.

Merlin gave her a warm smile.

"So she broke up with you for ditching her, then?" Mordred asked, returning them to the subject.

Merlin sighed and nodded. "It sounds awful when you put it like that but yeah. Pretty much. We're still friends, though."

"Just as well," Morgana jested. "She's too good for you."

Merlin snorted. "And here you were, trying to push me off on her. Like I told you before, you're stuck with me, LeFay."

Morgana bit her lip and looked out the window of the train as they took off for London. "I wouldn't wish you on my worst enemy, Ambrose."

They rode in comfortable silence until Mordred asked, "everything is going to change, isn't it?"

Morgana frowned. Mordred sat looking at the floor; his hands were clasped in his lap and he looked a lot older than a boy of fourteen. She clenched her teeth, angry that they were being forced to grow up so quickly.

It was Merlin that answered. "Yes," he said heavily. "But as long as we stick together, we'll be alright."

Morgana nodded in agreement. Part of her doubted that it would be as simple as Merlin said, but she had to hope. Things  _were_  going to get worse, but it didn't hurt to have something to hold onto.


End file.
